Whatever Floats Your Boat
by Miss-Adair
Summary: Just two months Spinelli was gone. In that time, each member of the gang has encountered problems. With Spinelli back and an outside view on the issues, her intervention could be the key to getting everyone back on track.
1. Gus

Hi! Look, another story with a cartoon I haven't watched in years but then became obsessed with again in the past two days. That seems to be a pattern. Not shocked. This story came to mind while thinking about the future (fun-fun...) and so I wondered how Spinelli's POV would affect each individual member of the group. Each chapter will deal with Spinelli interacting with another member and their problem. There may be a little TJxSpinelli thrown in near the end, but not _too_ much I don't think. That would be a different story altogether. That pairing deserves a spotlight, not a flashlight.

As always, PLEASE tell me if you see grammar/spelling errors. Those annoy me to no end. And reviews are welcome whether you liked it or not. Let me know if you think it's terrible (or wonderful). I've got thick skin.

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 **Whatever Floats Your Boat**

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Chapter 1 - A Challenge of Skill

 _What a rotten day_. That was Gus Griswald's only thought as he stormed into Kelso's and stomped over to where his favorite soda pop was kept. He needed the comfort of the familiar drink after the conversation he just had. His dad had been on his case again about the army and joining and doing something good with his life and blah blah blah.

It wasn't just today's conversation that got Gus's nerves all riled up. The whole summer has been crummy. Well, not _all_ of it—but plenty of it. Ever since finishing up sophomore year of high school, it seems an imminent storm with clouds labeled "College" have rolled in and threatened Gus and the gang. With all the testing, brochures, and mentions of college by teachers, there was no escaping it. Each friend has their own uncertainties about the future and what it might hold. Although they are firm in their standing of sticking together no matter where they go, the realization that they won't be physically together for the rest of their lives has begun to set in. That point was made most evident when Spinelli took off this summer for Italy.

Ashley Spinelli's family was an odd one—then again, all families had their own quirks—and her family likes to up and take off on "family fun vacations" as Mr. and Mrs. Spinelli put it, but Spinelli doesn't agree. She claims as soon as they arrive, her parents disappear for half the actual fun, leaving Spinelli and her brothers on their own. Sure, they were fun, but it wasn't "family fun" like the vacation name claimed.

The gang had took the blow hard, hearing that Spinelli would be gone for the entire summer. T.J. put it best after the news got out when he said, "This whomps!" Yes. Yes it did. A piece was missing. The gang had gone through the month-long camps they all stated was necessary for their futures (Gus still shivered at the word), but those were only a month—not a whole summer! Spinelli's absence was doubled in disgust when her father accidentally dropped her phone in the ocean early on in the trip. Her only means of communication with the gang after that was whenever she managed to steal one of her brother's phones and hide for more than five minutes before they found her and took the phone back. Only once was she not interrupted in her call by one of her angry brothers.

Gus remembered that phone call. T.J. was the one she called (to no one's surprise) and he spent the majority of it biking to everyone's home to get them in on it. The call lasted a blissful hour and fifteen minutes where the gang stayed in the park and talked with Spinelli while she was on speaker phone. Even if she wasn't there, it felt like it, and for a minute the summer was ok again.

She never got another chance at a full-length conversation after that, and summer became dull once more after her spunk faded from the gang's spirits. Boy, did Gus miss Spinelli. Who knew she could be such a vital part in keeping the spirit of the gang alive?

Gus was brought out of his thoughts when someone knocked into him. He was about to turn and apologize for his lack of attention to those around him until he heard the words of the other person.

"Out of the way, Griswald," Lawson said with a sharp bite in his tone. He laughed as he grabbed a twelve-pack of soda and heads for the counter where he can purchase his item.

That was the final straw. Gus was usually one to avoid a fight, but his dad's blood runs through his veins, and right now his is blood boiled at the very thought of the long-term bully getting away with another act of jerkiness. If a fight is necessary, then so be it. And Gus was in the mood for a fight, even if this one _wasn't_ necessary. The extra height and weight Lawson had on him didn't intimidate him much anymore. Thankfully, Gus had had a much needed late growth spurt over the summer. Even if he did end up getting beaten up, he knew he could actually hold his own for a while against the soon-to-be senior. It would feel great to see a black eye on him and know that it was Gus himself who caused it.

Just as he turned to face the bully, fists clenched, he paused when he saw that Lawson was talking to a girl. Although Lawson was talking to her, the girl had her back to him and Gus, obviously uninterested in the conversation. Gus lowered his fists. As much as he wanted to mutilate Lawson's face right now, he would not get close if it meant the possibility of accidentally hurting a girl. His parent's taught him better than that.

Gus turned and picked up another soda, suddenly needing more than he originally thought. The conversation between Lawson and the girl was quiet and short. Gus could hear Lawson's boastful phrases here and there, but the girl's answers were quieter and harder to hear no thanks to her facing the opposite direction of Gus. That is, until one outburst gave Gus a stab of fear in the stomach and a thrill of joy up his spine at the same time.

"If you don't back off, pal, I'm going to introduce you to my good friend Madame Fist!"

Spinelli turned, holding out her right fist and shook it in Lawson's face. The bully's shock was palpable to anyone in the establishment. A few of the customers were students at the local high school—the same one T.J. and the gang attended—and stared in shock at what just unraveled. Lawson, the better-than-everyone Senior had just unknowingly hit on Ashley Spinelli, a Junior. Gus could understand the mistake. Spinelli had her back to him and was wearing a dress— _a dress_ , like with straps and heels and everything—and looked nothing like the tomboy that left those months ago.

"What's the matter, Lawson?" Spinelli mocked the dumbstruck boy. "Am I so pretty that you're speechless? Well too bad. You're not my type. Now scram before Madame Fist finds out if you're _her_ type."

With the laughter of other customers ringing in his ears, Lawson hastened out of the store, not even remembering the twelve-pack of soda pop he left abandoned on the counter.

Gus's laughter was the loudest of them all, but once Lawson had fled, his joy turned from laughter into an exclamation. "Spinelli!"

Spinelli's eyes finally settled on him. As soon as they did, joy unlike that he has seen in a long while from her spread across her face. "Gus!" she exclaimed.

"Hey— _oof!_ " Gus had taken one step forward, but Spinelli had taken the final five with a sprint and threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around him and squeezing.

"Gus! How ya been, buddy? I missed you," Spinelli said. She continued to squeeze unbeknownst to her friend's astonishment and slight pain.

"Spin—can't—breathe," Gus managed to spit out between gasps. Spinelli immediately released him.

"Sorry about that, but hey, you lasted a lot longer than the last time I gave you a hug. Look at you. You're huge! You're taller than me." As if to prove her point, Spinelli set her hand on the top of her head then raised it a few inches higher to where the tip of Gus's head was. Suddenly, the smile on her face faded. "Great. Now I'm the shortest one in the group. Stupid genetics."

"Good to see you too, Spinelli," Gus said. The grin on his face came unconsciously. It seemed that Spinelli simply being there was enough for the anger and sadness to leave him. He felt stronger around her, which is weird considering she usually seemed to make him feel weak. That could be because she always pushed him to go farther, both with his physical boundaries and his mental ones. Often she would state that he could tackle whatever it was facing him if he pushed himself, and if not, she would be right there to help him beat the snot out of whatever it was that troubled him.

"When did you get back? Why didn't you tell us?" Gus's mind ran through the possibilities as to why she was on American soil again without his knowledge.

Spinelli shook her head and sighed, "I would have called you, but Mom says she won't get me a new phone until the end of the week so I couldn't really call you guys without having my parents eavesdrop while on the landline. Then she made me stay at the house and unpack. I got in no more than three hours ago."

"What about T.J.? Did he see you come in?" T.J. lived only a few houses down from Spinelli's. He could have seen them and said hi. Then again, if T.J. had seen them come in, he would have alerted the rest of the gang.

"Nah. I made a quick stop at his house, but his mom said he wasn't there." Spinelli shrugged. "I'll see him eventually, but, boy, am I glad I got to see at least one of you guys before the end of the day. I'm going to crash the next few days. Jetlag is the worst."

Spinelli took a seat on one of the stools next to the counter. Gus took a seat beside her. She turned to him and smirked. "What do you want? Anything, it's on me." Then she spied the two sodas on the counter where Gus had left them when Spinelli started talking. She picked them up and showed the employee before pulling some money from the purse she was holding. ( _Purse_ —another fact Gus found almost as shocking as the dress.)

"No, Spinelli, you really don't—"

"Say anything else, Gus, and I'll shove the drink down your throat myself—glass and all." Gus immediately quieted his protests. Although Spinelli was smaller than everyone in the gang, and most everyone in school, that hardly stopped her from proving her strength at any given opportunity. Gus didn't doubt her threat. She would force him to give in no matter what. That was no surprise.

What _did_ surprise Gus was Spinelli's sudden look of guilt. She seemed to shrink a little as she quietly handed the soda to her friend.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare ya," she mumbled. Then the guilt and quietness Spinelli showed disappeared in the blink of an eye and were replaced with that fire in her eyes and confident stance. "So what have you been up to this summer?"

Gus shrugged. "Nothing really. Just…hanging out with the guys. Hey, I'll call them now! They'll be ecstatic to hear that you're back." Gus pulled out his phone only to have it snatched away. "Spinelli! I need that."

Spinelli paid him no mind as she shoved it in her purse, the same purse she used to smack his hand when he tried to take it back. "You can have it back when we are done talking. You haven't even told me about your summer."

"I told you I didn't do anything. Nothing important anyway," Gus insists.

Spinelli raises an eyebrow at him. "Really? Because those bags under your eyes and the anger written across your face are certainly from a summer full of nothing. Come on, Gus. 'Nothing' in a summer means hanging out with friends beside the pond, not anger. And don't deny it. I've been your kind of angry. I know what it looks like. So spill."

"Me? What about you? You're wearing a dress Spinelli. And you hit me with your _purse_. I've never seen you even touch a purse." The anger Gus had from before was returning and aimed itself at his friend. He was completely ready for another shouting match. That's what happens with anger sometimes. It attacks with little provocation and at someone for no reason.

Spinelli saw this. She may know how to fight, but with that turf comes the knowledge on how to avoid them too. The tomboy immediately changed her tone and lowered her eyes. "I had to. Mom insists on washing all our clothes after a trip. Only the new stuff isn't dirty to her. And the only clothes she bought me on the trip were girly stuff. It was this or a skirt. That's all it is. Emergency clothing. I am not about to become an Ashley. Promise."

With each word spoken, Gus's anger faded a little more. He lowered his eyes too, suddenly ashamed of himself. "Sorry."

"You're sorry? I'm the one picking a fight with one of her best friends," Spinelli scoffed before taking a swig of her soda. Then she grew silent, staring at Gus until she caught his eyes. "I am worried, though. A friend's allowed to worry. What's the deal, Gus? You're always a little skittish, but this is new."

Gus sighed and took a drink of his own soda. It took a minute for him to actually pull out all the information from memory since he hadn't actually sat down and thought about it. He usually escaped to the gang to forget about his troubles at home. Now Spinelli is confronting him, and he doesn't know where to start.

"My dad wants me to join the military," he said finally.

"Yeah. What else is new?" Spinelli asks flippantly.

"The thing is, I'm not sure I actually want to."

"That's new."

"Yeah. Yeah, it is. I had no idea I might not want to join the army until two and a half months ago," Gus said. That phrase opened up the floodgates. His worries flowed out of his mouth like water—quickly and without barriers. Occasionally, when Gus gets excited or anxious about something, his words can be spoken so fast that someone has to ask him to slow down. This was one of those times; only Spinelli doesn't interrupt, instead allowing him to spit out his troubles with no restraint. "So we've been butting heads a lot, and today was a really big fight. He wants me to start looking at different boot camps, and I don't know if I want to actually go into the army. I'm confused. My dad's mad at me. My mom is in the middle of it all. And I'm not sure what to do." Gus put his head in his hands. All those feelings of uncertainty and fear came crashing down in that moment, weighing on his shoulders like a ton of bricks. "It's all this future talk. It's got everyone spooked. None of us have been talking about what we want to do with life since you left. It's like we're at a standstill. No one knows where to go from here."

Spinelli was quiet for a long time. If it weren't for the lack of bell sounds that usually occur when someone opens Kelso's door, he would have thought she left. But she stayed. He knows this because of the hand that now rests on his shoulder.

"Rough," Spinelli said. Although her tone was light, the rumbling behind it suggests a tug of emotion.

Gus didn't say anything, remaining in his self-pity stance.

"Well," Spinelli said slowly, choosing her words carefully, "What are you thinking of doing instead? You got a backup plan?"

Gus sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that day. "I dunno."

"Gus, what have you been doing in your free time besides hanging out with the others?"

Gus shrugged, still feeling Spinelli's hand on his shoulder. Strange. "Fixing cars with my dad." Gus had done that for years. It was tradition with his father. When he was home, they would go out back and start work on that old car of his.

"Uh huh. And what's your best class in school?"

"What does that have to—"

"Just answer the dumb questions."

"Math."

"Well…" Spinelli finally retracted her hand from Gus's shoulder. She grabbed her soda and took a long drink of it. She took so long in finishing her thought that Gus again thought she might have left. He finally comes out from hiding behind his hands to look at her. Spinelli seemed uncomfortable. She kept biting her lip and looking around the room.

"What is it Spinelli?"

"What about being an engineer? Maybe even an engineer for the army?" After saying her piece Spinelli watched Gus's reaction. There wasn't much of a reaction. He simply watched her.

An engineer?

Gus had never thought about that. Him an engineer? "Really?"

Spinelli promptly punched him in the arm. Gus bit his lip to hold in a yelp. Yep, Spinelli was still as tough as nails. Being exposed to other cultures didn't diminish that in her. "Don't you think I know what I'm talking about? Yes, an engineer. You like working on cars and stuff, and you're good in all those match and physics classes. You're smart. I mean, you're not Gretchen-smart, but you're smart. You could do it."

"An engineer?"

Another punch to the arm. That one hurt worse than the first.

"Yeah, dimwit. An engineer. I said you were smart, but I'm thinking about retracting that statement. Is it in your thick skull yet?"

At Gus's lack of response, Spinelli raised her fist. Gus immediately put up his hands in defense. "I got it! I got it! An engineer. You think I can been an engineer."

"I _know_ you can," Spinelli corrected. "But it's up to you. So…whatever."

The two friends turn back to their drinks. The silence between them was contemplative.

"I could do that."

"Yeah?" Spinelli perked up at her friend's positive feedback.

"Yeah. I can be an engineer. I could even spend part of it in boot camp somewhere. I'm sure my father knows a place."

"That's the spirit, Gus! You got this! You're going to be the best engineer that ever engineered anything!"

"Yeah! I'm gonna be an engineer!" Gus leaped from his seat and stood tall with his hands raised high above his head in victory. The entire summer of worry and anxiety and fear suddenly disappeared. Gus felt that he could take on the world. He could fly. _He could be an engineer_.

"Thank you, Spinelli!" Gus grabbed a laughing Spinelli, picked her up, and spun her around. Spinelli threw her own hands in the air until Gus put her down again. He then brought her into a hug to which Spinelli returned without the painful rib-cracking strength. Rather that of a friend who is elated for another friend. "Thanks, Spin."

"You got it."

Gus pulled away from her and began waltzing towards the door, but he was so happy he practically danced there. "I gotta go. I gotta talk to my dad. I'll see you later, Spinelli."

With that Gus headed out the door with a grin on his face and a spring in his step. Spinelli watched him go with a large grin on her phase. The grin faded the farther away Gus got unbeknownst to him. Spinelli went back to the abandoned drinks on the counter. She finished hers off then picked up her purse. As she was heading for the door, realization splashed over her like a cool wave. She broke into a run as she moved out the door and down the sidewalk calling after her friend.

"Gus! Wait! You forgot your phone!"


	2. Vince

I like this story. I'm really getting into it. This chapter was fun to write-though I struggled with using past and present tense. I have a bad habit of switching in between the two. I have got to catch myself on those.

This chapter contains a different love story. I always thought Vince and Gretchen would look good together so I decided to explore it further. Hope you all enjoy it!

I forgot to mention last time-I (sadly) don't own Recess or it's characters/ideas.

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 **Chapter** **2 - A Challenge of Heart**

"Arg— _no_."

For the eighth time that night, Vincent Pierre LaSalle missed his shot. Vince _never_ misses his shots. Never. Well, at least not when he's simply shooting hoops. These should be child's play for him by now, but no. He's missing shots. There are only three reasons for him to miss his shots. One—he is physically incapable of making a shot. Two—he is trying out a new style or a joking style and has not practiced it enough. Three—something so monumental is on his mind that he can't focus enough to make a shot.

Right then, reason number three was why he has to go and retrieve his ball again.

Vince took a deep breath and tried once more, hoping to clear his mind of his predicament. That was one of the reasons he came to the park to shoot some hoops alone. The cool evening gave enough of a chill to keep most children out of the park but enough families to remind him that he was not completely alone in the world. Actually, he's never alone with such great friends as his, but right now he didn't want to see his friends. He needed to not see them in order to get his stupid problem out of his stupid mind that won't stop thinking about it.

Stupid.

With that thought in mind, Vince took another shot. Ninth missed shot of the night. Vince didn't go chasing after the ball this time around. He bent over, palms on his knees, and took a few deep breaths. It wasn't anger that's getting to him. Actually, it was happiness. Too much happiness. His friends were the best in the world. Phenomenal. The only people in the world he really connects with. One in particular, though, has been a little _more_ wonderful lately.

Vince never saw it coming. It was like back in Third Street School when he and his friends were playing hide and go seek, only Spinelli thought of it more like hide-and-go-scare-the-seeker-out-of-his-mind-if-he-gets-near-her-hiding-spot. If nearly found, Spinelli would realize her demise and make a game of it. She would get a step up on the seeker by sneaking up behind them and startling them. That's what happened here. This feeling that causes so much happiness sneaked up on him and scared him out of his wits.

Vince had feelings for Gretchen Grundler.

Oh boy.

"Heads up!"

Those years of practicing made it second nature for Vince to catch that basketball whizzing towards him. He looked up and was stunned for a second when he saw who is before him.

Ashley Spinelli, in person-and in a skirt. A _skirt_. A red, slightly ruffled skirt with a tank top and boots. Classy boots, not her regular ones that she claims are as comfortable as socks on carpet. Her hair was done up, and the smile on her face only compliments her features. That smile faded, however, when Vince continued to do nothing but stare for a solid minute.

"Hey Spinelli," Spinelli's voice mocked Vince's usual tone. "It's good to see you. I haven't talked to you in person for two months and now that you're here, I am too stunned at your awesomeness for words." Spinelli frowned. She stomped forward and got into Vince's suddenly terrified face. " _Hi to you too, Vince!_ "

"H-Hi, Hey—Hi Spinelli. Hey." Vince took a few steps back and gathered himself. "Sorry about that. I just...when Gus said you had worn a girly dress, I didn't think you would continue the girly tradition. It's...different seeing you dressed up like this."

Spinelli scowled at him. "Don't get used to it. Mom's not done with the laundry, and all my good clothes are in the wash or too ratty to wear in public." Spinelli softened then. She looked to the ground and scuffed her heel against the pavement. "Sorry."

"For what?" Vince couldn't come up with a reason for her to be sorry. Throwing the ball at him? Mocking him?

"Scarin' you. Didn't mean to. Just—nevermind. Gimme that." Spinelli took the ball from Vince and took a shot. She made it which was rather impressive considering her distance from the hoop. "Yes. Nothing but net."

"Not too shabby," Vince said with mild amusement. Spinelli wasn't really one for sports, not too much for organized athletics, but strong nonetheless. Vince had tried to convince her here and there to put that strength to good use on a team. It never got very far, though. He gave up a while ago. He turned to look at her now and that proud look on her face he has seen a million times before, suddenly feeling a surge of happiness. A different kind of happiness. One that reminded him of the simplicity of childhood and lack of stress. It was a relief of stress he greatly needed, and it took Spinelli's presence in order to get it. (Not the kind of happiness that Gretchen somehow now gives him just by gracing him with a glance at her-a happiness that reminds him of the time he took the game-winning shot against one of their school's biggest athletic rivals.)

"What?" Spinelli had caught him staring. Since he had been smiling, she smiled back with a little curiosity as well.

"It's good to see you, Spinelli," Vince said. His voice was so genuine that it caught him and his friend off-guard. Vince gave a small laugh and scratched the back of his head. "Heh, yeah. I...it just hasn't been the same—I mean, we all missed—"

Vince never got a chance to finish. Spinelli had grabbed him and held him in place with a hug containing enough strength to keep a person even of Vince's height and weight in place. Vince got beyond the shock and slight awkwardness of it and hugged her back. Past the strangeness, though, it was actually kind of nice. He definitely missed Spinelli, and he told her as much.

"Missed you too," Spinelli said when she pulled away. "I missed all of you. Can you believe I've only seen you and Gus since getting back yesterday?"

"We tried to come by and see you earlier, but your mom said you were asleep and not to disturb you because of jetlag," Vince said in defense and slight disappointment.

Spinelli thought about that then nodded. "Yeah, probably a good idea. You know how I am when I'm woken up before I'm good and ready."

"I think each of us have made that bad decision." Vince winced at the memory of when he had been given the job of getting Spinelli up on a Saturday morning for a trip out of town the group planned on making. It was such a stupid thing to do. He should have made Gretchen do it. Spinelli was less likely to resort to violence with Gretchen.

At the thought of Gretchen, Vince cleared his throat and picked up the ball to keep himself occupied. He shot it and took a deep breath when it, yet again, bounced off the rim. "How was Italy?"

"I've already told you guys about it over the phone. It was fine. An 'experience' as Mom calls it. And good for college. Whatever. I wanna hear about your summer. How's it going?" Spinelli caught the ball. She eyed Vince suspiciously after the missed shot. Vince tried giving her his most innocent look, but really being a star player and a shoo-in for captain this upcoming year, missing a basket was a big deal.

"Boring. Nothing to report. Not too out-of-the-ordinary. Totally normal." Vince smiled. Spinelli scowled.

He's dead. Spinelli's pretty good about smelling out a lie. She either was completely oblivious to the lie or spot-on in her guess about being lied to. And right now the latter was occurring.

"Spill."

Vince bit his lip. He looked up at the sky instead of Spinelli's accusing eyes.

"I can keep a secret, Vince." Spinelli's quiet voice was enough to bring Vince's gaze back to her. Small. She looked small. Staring at the ground, elbows in, knees together—it looked like she shrunk into herself. Totally unlike Spinelli.

"I know," Vince said. He was sincere. Spinelli can keep a secret if necessary. Vince usually tells his secrets to T.J. However, this was something monumental. Something that could rattle the orientation of the gang. T.J.'s gang-his pride and joy. Vince didn't want to put this weight on his shoulders. Spinelli? Vince hadn't thought about telling Spinelli. She wasn't a possibility before now because of her absence. Actually, she would be a pretty good choice. Mikey would secretly drop hints through quotes of poets if he knew. Gus would squirm whenever she would talk to him or the two of them would be in the same room. T.J.—for the obvious reason of uncertainty in support of the group. Sure, T.J. would support Vince, but Vince wants to be a good friend too. Spinelli...she's close enough to Gretchen as a girl to know her, yet distant enough to see how things could play out. Maybe...

"Just don't...please don't tell anyone. Not yet. And don't get all gushy on me," Vince pleaded.

Spinelli crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Do I look like Mikey to you?"

Vince chuckled. "Right." One deep breath later, Vince gathered enough courage to spit out the phrase. "I kind of have... _feelings_...for Gretchen."

Vince couldn't look at Spinelli right then even if he wanted to. He instead held out his hands for the ball which Spinelli then throws to him. He took another shot and missed. Eleventh. In Spinelli's silence, Vince attempted to belittle the situation. "It's no big deal. I just think she's cool. She's smart. Pretty. Plenty of girls are cool and smart and pretty. I just happen to see it most often in Gretchen because I'm around her the most. It'll pass. Seems like I needed to get it off my chest in order to get beyond it. I'll be fine. There will be other girls. This thing for Gretchen won't last. Whew. Thanks, Spinelli. I'm good now."

Spinelli quickly went to intercept the ball from where it was bouncing back towards Vince. Her glare in his direction was so intense that Vince felt the need to back away from her for the second time that night.

"Don't push Gretchen aside like that. Not cool."

Vince looked at the ground, completely ashamed. "Yeah, I know. Sorry. But it's no big deal."

"Shut up. Stop there. Yes it is." Spinelli dribbled the ball as she aimlessly walked around, not really looking at Vince as she addressed him. "You and I both know how awesome Gretchen is. She's the bomb at so many things. Science is her version of sports, and she's beyond killer at it. And she's nice. She doesn't even kick me out of her house when I annoy her. She's pretty too, huh?"

At this, Spinelli shot Vince a mischievous look to which Vince sputtered out a few words without actually connecting them into a full thought.

"Thought so. She sure got style when sophomore year hit. I would know, she dragged me to enough stores as her go-to on what looks good." Spinelli turned and made another shot in the opposite hoop. "I kinda figured you had a crush on her when freshman year hit, but even you didn't know what it was. I could tell. You kept sitting next to her and lookin' at her. I only noticed 'cause she got suspicious at the end of sophomore year and asked me if I saw anything. I did, but I didn't get a chance to tell her before my parents sprung this stupid trip on me."

"You knew?!"

"Duh. You weren't exactly discreet. I just didn't know you were hesitant about it." Spinelli tossed the ball to Vince. "So why are you hesitating? I mean, she's got all those smarty-pants at school eyeing her. You will probably lose your chance when school comes around. One of those nerds will have bound to have gathered enough courage to ask her out after this summer."

At the thought, Vince's grip on the ball tightened. "I..." Vince sighed. "I don't know. I guess I'm just afraid of messing up the mojo of the group. We might get off balance or something. I mean, what if we break up? And not to mention the stupid cliques are going to be breathing down our necks the entire time."

Spinelli suddenly launches herself at Vince. The athlete was caught completely off-guard. He managed to turn slightly so the frightening girl latched herself onto her friend's back. She grabs his shoulders and shakes, causing Vince to nearly topple over.

"Spinelli, what are you doing? _Stop!_ "

"You said it-that stupid thing that ruins every chance of relationship ever. Haven't you seen those crummy girly movies? You'll lose her. You'll lose your chance. I gotta shake that nonsense out of you. It is my responsibility as your friend."

"I got it-Spinelli. Ack! _I got it_."

Spinelli stopped shaking, but her grip did not lessen, keeping Vince's fear for another attack. After a minute of fearful suspense, Spinelli let go of her death-grip and instead wrapped her arms lazily around her friend's neck, settling into a normal piggy-back.

"You listen here, bub. You are a kick-butt athlete and one of the coolest, most fair guys I know. Opposite that-Gretchen is the smartest, prettiest, and nicest girl I know. I think you two are on the same level of awesome-almost to my level. A relationship between the two of you would be great. Not perfect-nothing is perfect-but great. If you break up, then you break up. Call me sappy, but I agree with whatever dude it was that said 'Better to have loved and lost than to live in regret for the rest of your life for not following your very good friend's advice and asking the girl you are totally into out on a date.'"

Vince chuckled. "I don't think that's exactly how it goes, Spin."

"Well, it applies to this situation a lot better with some editing. Besides, I said I wouldn't turn into Mikey for this." Spinelli finally got down from her vantage point. When both feet were planted on solid ground again, the little spit-fire punched her friend in the shoulder. It was more painful than a friendly punch to the shoulder so Vince knew he was still being punished a little. This was confirmed by Spinelli's next phrase. "And don't you ever mention cliques again! Our group has been through a bunch of different stuff with people like those stupid Ashley's breathing down our necks. They haven't gotten to us yet. And don't worry, I got your back if they talk smack. I'm a very persuasive person."

"Yeah, I know." Vince says, rubbing his sore arm. "So...you really think I should do it?"

Spinelli rolls her eyes before smacking her palm against her forehead. "No duh. What have I been saying this whole time? I think you and Gretch would make a pretty great pair."

"You think?"

"Yeah, a lot better than with anyone else we know-better than any of the Ashley's or that one Stephanie girl you thought about asking out, or even someone like me. Gretch is definitely the gal."

Vince shook his head as a small flood of memories came to mind. "That's funny considering I had liked you back in grade school."

That brought Spinelli up short. She looked at him with a look of complete shock and awe. That soon gave way to another punch to the arm. Thankfully this one didn't hurt as much. She wasn't punishing him anymore, instead joking. Spinelli's laughter proved it. "No way!"

"Yep. I thought you were pretty cool," Vince said, joining her in her laughter. "Back in Third Street-near the beginning of fourth grade, I think-I liked you."

"Nah. Really?" When Vince just shrugged, Spinelli lost it. She laughed, laughed more than she had all summer combined.

Vince at first felt a little offended. "It's not _that_ funny," he tried defending himself.

"Yes it is. Can you picture opening doors for me and all that romantic junk? _You?_ " Spinelli fell into another fit of laughter.

Vince did try to picture it. Ok, it was kinda funny. Actually, it was hilarious. Him opening doors for the tough-as-nails Spinelli? The very thought brought the athlete to near tears with how hard he began to laugh. The two old friends thoroughly enjoyed the topic to its fullest extent, ending up on the ground, sitting next to each other, trying to regain their breath.

"I thought you were cool too," Spinelli said after a brief pause. "Not that I wanted to hang out with you like that, but I thought you were one of the slickest guys around."

"I kind of figured it wasn't really good for either of us. The crush faded pretty fast. Especially when you and..." Vince stopped himself then and there. He almost broke a barrier there.

"What?" Spinelli asked. She turned herself to fully face him. When the athlete said nothing, she gave him a playful shove. "C'mon. Tell me."

"Back then, I thought..." Vince took a moment to weigh the pros and cons of his next phrase and decided a little prodding wouldn't do any harm. Everyone in the group was pretty curious about this subject anyway. "I thought you had a thing for T.J."

Spinelli's playful grin turns into a frown, then changes again into a genuine smile. "I did."

"Really?" Vince asked, totally shocked Spinelli would even admit to anything on the subject.

The rugged girl shrugged. "Sure. I mean, he was our leader. He inspired us all. And I thought I was special to him-like I was his right-hand girl...heh, funny how things like that just sorta slip your mind until something brings them up again. I had almost forgotten about that until you asked me."

Vince grins. It was his turn to give Spinelli a playful shove. "I'm pretty sure he had a crush on you too."

"Yeah?" Spinelli's semi-excitement at that phrase was not lost on Vince.

"Yeah. Good times back then, huh?"

"Yeah. Good times." Spinelli sighed and blew at the hair that came out of her up-do in the scramble with her friend. "So when are you going to ask Gretchen out?"

"Soon." Vince said with certainty, but that wasn't enough for Spinelli.

Spinelli nodded as if in agreement. "Sounds good. I'd better hear that you have a date before school gets here. That's in two weeks. Count 'em. I will be."

"Don't worry. I got this. I'm cool I've been told. How can she resist?"

Spinelli rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless. "Beats me. Hey, can I see your phone? I want to see how the pictures I sent you guys turned out on your phones. Italy was beautiful, I admit. I wanna make sure the phone did it justice."

"Sure." Vince took out his phone and handed it to his friend. Spinelli began shuffling through his phone. She casually got to her feet and began walking around her friend until she turned to him with determination and a smirk. Vince suddenly didn't feel so good.

"Alright, listen up pal. I'm going to call her on your phone-"

"Spinelli! No! Not _now_." Vince got to his feet and tried to catch his friend. It was his quick, practiced feet versus Spinelli's years of fighting experience. Unfortunately, her knowledge in avoidance trumped his maneuvering skills.

"And when I do, I want you to ask to meet her in person. None of this over-the-phone junk. Ask her face-to-face. I know she'll appreciate it. She's classy like that. You picked a good one." Spinelli hit the button and held it to her ear. When she heard it ring, she allowed Vince to take it back.

"Spinelli, I told you I'm-" Vince stopped himself when he heard Gretchen's voice pick up on the other end. For one heart-racing moment, Vince had no idea what to do.

"Answer it, you dimwit!" Spinelli whispered harshly but with humor tracing every syllable. The grin she had on her face made Vince want to punch something. With a deep breath and a small prayer sent upwards, he held the phone up to his ear.

"Hey, Gretchen. How's it going?"

As Gretchen gave her pleasant answer, Spinelli gave Vince the thumb's up before mimicking Vince in his stroll. Vince turned out to be a wanderer with phones. When he talked on it, he felt the need to pace. So when he took three steps forward and had his back to Spinelli for less than twelve seconds, he was surprised that when he turned around, she wasn't there. Gone. Disappeared. It made Vince's mind halt. Where had she gone?

" _Vince? Are you still there?_ " Gretchen's voice brought Vince out of his wondering.

"Sorry, Gretch. Something weird caught my attention. What was your question?"

" _I asked what you needed. You were the one who called me, remember?_ "

"Oh right, right. Heh. Um, yeah I was wondering if you'd be willing to meet me outside of Kelso's in fifteen minutes."

There was a heart-stopping pause before Gretchen answered. " _I don't see why not. Any particular reason?_ "

"Just...something I want to discuss in person. That alright?"

" _It's fine with me_."

"Great. I'll see you in a few."

" _See you_."

Vince disconnected the call. His heart was beating as fast as a rabbit's. He felt out of breath though the only real "workout" he did was pacing and a few failed shots. Vince shook off his nerves, internally demanding that he do this as he began walking with purpose in the direction of Kelso's.

Spinelli was right. It was now or never.


	3. Gretchen

Whew! I'm on a roll with this story. I'm updating rather quickly. It helps when I'm passionate about a story. Thank you so much for the reviews! I'm honored. I hope to continue making the story an enjoyable read. Still, point out any issues there may be. I still occasionally struggle with switching from one tense to another-fair warning.

I still don't own anything...sadly.

* * *

 **Chapter** **3 - Gretchen**

* * *

"Oh dear. This is not the desired outcome."

Gretchen looked on at the chaos before her. Chaos she created. She had been experimenting in her basement, one of the side rooms her parents had allowed to completely dedicate to her passion-science. It was the best thing her parents had ever gotten her, and she used it to its fullest extent. However, sometimes she can get carried away. Or distracted. The latter is far worse than the former. Today's mess proved just that.

Green solution had spilled over and collided with another reactive chemical that caused the green solution to become sticky. It now coated the surface of her work area. With a heavy-hearted sigh, Gretchen began to clean it up. She really should know by now not to work in here when her mind is on other things. The current predicament is proof of just that. Thanks to a particular basketball player, Gretchen's thoughts were elsewhere when she had knocked over the solution.

It was only yesterday that Vince had asked her out. It wasn't as if she didn't have her suspicions, but Gretchen was honestly surprised when he managed to talk to her about it. She had gotten Spinelli to be something of a sneak for her when the facts seemed to back up her theory. Spinelli, being the good friend she was, did just that and kept it under wraps from the others. However, before Gretchen could get the much needed data from her female friend, Spinelli's family took off for Italy, taking the answer with her. With Spinelli's limited phone access, she could not find a good, private time to relay the information either. So Gretchen was caught off-guard and at a loss of what to do when Vince approached her.

Gretchen sighed. She had gotten half the mess cleaned up, and it had taken nearly an hour. Gretchen's arms were getting sore. From what she deducted about the substance, it will not stain the counter or be any more difficult to clean later so there is no harm in taking a break. Gretchen shed her lab coat and went to take a walk outside.

"My, what a lovely day," Gretchen couldn't help but say when she stepped out into the fresh air. It was not too hot or cold, there had been light showers the night before so everything had a smell of freshness, and a slight breeze offered some sunshine relief.

Gretchen tried to clear her mind as she walked, but it was more difficult than anticipated even with the beautiful weather. That is, until someone shouted her name. The young genius glanced across the street to see the owner of the voice come barreling towards her. Gretchen barely had time to register that it was a friend before having said person collide with her, engulfing her in a bear hug.

"Hiya Gretch!" Spinelli exclaimed as she clutched one of her best friends. "How's it going?"

The force that is Spinelli often catches Gretchen off-guard. Sometimes she doesn't know her own strength-rarely but it does happen-and when that does, even her friends suffer. Hence the gangly girl's ribs being crushed. "Spinelli-breath-please!" Gretchen gasped.

The tough girl immediately released her hold and took a step back, looking extremely sheepish and a little guilty. "Sorry. Sorry, Gretchen. Just-happy to see ya, you know?"

Gretchen took a couple of deep breaths before straightening her glasses and addressing her friend. "Completely understandable." Gretchen smiled and again went to Spinelli for a hug. This one was much tamer in which both girls benefited from it. "I've missed you."

"Missed you too," Spinelli said as she pulled away. She frowned when she saw Gretchen staring at her friend's clothes. Spinelli didn't even look down at her outfit, knowing nothing was wrong with it but rather her friend stared from sheer surprise. "Don't mention it," she gives the warning about her purple blouse and black pants with matching heels. "My mom took a liking to all my new outfits and demanded I still wear them. I woulda worn my real clothes but she hid them. _Hid them_. I mean, where does she even hide them? I checked all the prime present-hiding places and still didn't find anything. I'm starting to suspect my parents have more skills than I know...so don't judge or comment 'cause I'll comment right back-like on the fact that you're still tall." Spinelli paused. "Am I any taller? Did you know that squirt Gus passed me up?"

Gretchen chuckled. "Yes, I had heard. He seemed quite proud of himself when he relayed that information. Don't worry, though. Your height does nothing to undermine your ability to appear quite ferocious."

Spinelli shrugged, seeming less thrilled at that fact than Gretchen anticipated. "Yeah. Suppose so." Then the shorter girl shook her head. "That doesn't really matter anyway. How was your summer? What's going on? Anything interesting happening?"

Suddenly, Gretchen's shoes were quite fascinating. She stared at them while keeping herself from voicing the predicament that arose yesterday instead of telling her friend the truth straight out. It still seemed a little surreal to the teen, and she didn't want to touch it yet. "Oh my summer has been wonderful. I updated Galileo, used my telescope nearly every night to observe the star changes, took an extra class in order to take that advanced physics college course early next semester, and figured out that math equation that went along with the solution I had told you about before you left. Remember? The one you said was 'longer than the law should allow math to be'."

"Oh yeah. That looked like a doosey."

"Quite. But enough about me. How was Italy? I heard they have a wonderful-"

A long, drawn-out groan from Spinelli stopped Gretchen's question. "I don't wanna talk about Italy. I already told you guys all the interesting stuff about it. I'd still rather have been here. I want to hear about _you_."

Gretchen could have sworn Spinelli's look held mischievous intent. She brushed off her suspicions and tried continuing on the current path of conversation. "I've already told you about my summer. It has been nice."

"How about the others? Hung out with them much?"

"Some, yes." Gretchen smiled. Spinelli frowned again. Spinelli had an uncanny ability to pick up when her friends were covering, especially since hitting puberty. When asked about it, Spinelli claimed she knew her friends so well and could see the changes that they tried to make in themselves since high school. The one thing she will always fight against, she claims, is fake friends. She will not have them become what society wants to mold them into. Spinelli is trying to impose just that right now with her nervous female friend.

Gretchen, however, tried to continue with the facade, but spoke only part of the truth. "We have been less...spirited as of late, however. Your absence has taken a toll on us, Spinelli."

"So I've heard," Spinelli said. "Is that all? You guys just missed me? Anything else happening?"

This time, Gretchen knew that look was pointed at her. "...Yes?"

Spinelli's victory grin made Gretchen again look at her shoes. "It's Vince, isn't it?"

"Is it obvious? I've been trying to hide it. Successfully, I had hoped with the others. You seem to have picked it up rather quickly."

The shorter teen rolled her eyes. "You had me spy on him, remember?"

"Not spy! Just...watch."

"Yeah, yeah. Well, I came to the conclusion that he likes you."

"Yes, I am aware. He...he asked me to the movies yesterday."

Spinelli's response was calmer than Gretchen anticipated. Then she saw Spinelli's own sneaky expression underlying her approving smile.

"That's great, Gretch! I thought you'd-"

"You _knew_." Gretchen's incredulous accusation hung in the air between the gal pals created an air of fear mixed with anger from the taller teen.

Spinelli's surprised face turns to one of guilt. "Heh. Yeah."

"How? I mean, he asked me out only yesterday?"

Spinelli rubbed the back of her head. "Well, ya see, I sorta met up with him the other night. Totally unplanned. We got to talking, and I weaseled his feelings for you out of him."

"You talked to him yesterday? What time yesterday?"

"Right before he asked you out?" Spinelli's apologetic smile was not enough to quell Gretchen's sudden flair of anger.

"And you didn't tell me? You didn't warn me? I have been driving myself crazy over this all summer, counting on your spying skills, and you don't even tell me that he's planning-"

"Because he wasn't planning on it!"

This brought Gretchen up short. "What do you mean?"

Spinelli let out a frustrated sigh. "I talked to him and found out he liked you-like, really, really liked you-but he wasn't sure about actually doing something about it. He...we talked about some of the things he wasn't sure about. He hasn't even told T.J. he likes you so he felt kinda stuck. But then we talked. His reasons to not ask you out were really stupid. I told him he doesn't deserve you if he allows crummy reasons like those to get in the way of what he wants to do. Don't be mad. I just wanted to...I think you two would look good together."

Gretchen absorbs the information provided by Spinelli and processes it as Spinelli stands in front of her, scuffing her perfectly good heels against the sidewalk, ensuring that her mother will yell at her later for the damage. Gretchen feels like she should be mad, but she wasn't mad. Logically speaking, Spinelli simply brought Vince past his fears, giving him permission from the group to pass through the door already open to him. She didn't interfere with Vince's love life selfishly, leading him the way she wanted to, but rather pulled him along the path he already wanted to go. Spinelli's to be given credit, not blamed.

"Thank you, Spinelli," Gretchen said. It sounded formal at first. Then it really hit her and she spoke again with genuine sincerity, again enveloping her friend in a hug. "Thank you so much!"

Spinelli let out a sigh of relief. "You're welcome." When the two broke apart, they took one look at another and burst into giggles. It was very out-of-character for the both of them, but with the entire summer of anxiety lifted off of their shoulders, their relief was allowed to come out in an unexpected way.

"Hey, what are we standing around here for? We should head to the mall!" Spinelli exclaimed. She immediately began the somewhat long trek towards the outlet mall at the edge of town.

"The mall? Spinelli, are you alright?"

Spinelli rolled her eyes. "I'm fine. Don't give me that look. Listen, I'm happy for you and all. And I think you are drop-dead awesome, but one thing I learned in Italy is that a new outfit for a special occasion can do wonders for confidence."

"You are talking to me about clothes? But you always say-" Gretchen asked incredulously.

"Clothes mean nothing. Yeah, yeah-preaching to the choir. I'm not saying it will make you any better; I'm just saying, if you feel pretty, you'll stand a little taller. Not that you aren't pretty now. Ugh, you know what I mean!"

"I thought you said I was too tall."

"I said you were _still_ tall. Big difference. You are not too tall. Especially not for Mr. Basketball Player." Spinelli winked at Gretchen. The implication made the smart teen blush. "A new outfit for your date will do you some good."

"Careful, Spinelli, you're starting to sound like an Ashley," Gretchen joked.

Spinelli shivered. "I never want to hear that again. But desperate times call for desperate measures. What do you think, semi-formal? Casual?"

"Well, I suppose that depends on if we are doing something beforehand."

The girls continued to discuss the pros and cons of the outfit, the movie selection, and the day of the week the date should be on as they walked towards the mall. Gretchen felt more at ease during that walk than she had the entire summer. Spinelli's self-assurance and confidence were infectious. Gretchen could feel herself feeling stronger already. She had always looked to her female friend for a reassuring word, and she knew Spinelli looked to her for a steady hand. The mutual beneficial relationship made them closer than they should be according to statistics, Gretchen concluded. They are very different, but they complement each other so well.

They were just outside the first store when Spinelli suddenly stopped, pulling Gretchen to a halt as well.

"Wait!"

"What? What is it?"

"Did you say yes?"

"Did I...what?"

"Did you say yes?"

"To what?"

"To him! For the date! Did you say yes, you would go out with him?"

Spinelli's wide eyes and slightly-horrified expression struck Gretchen's funny bone. She began laughing, much to Spinelli's annoyance.

"What's so funny?"

"Spinelli-" Gretchen tried to regain her sense of calm and somewhat succeeded. "-of course, I said yes. Don't you remember when you interrogated me before this summer about it? I've liked him for a while and am pleased of the developments so far. I would love to pursue this. I believe I am going to enjoy it."

"Darn right you are." Spinelli's satisfied look also made Gretchen laugh. Spinelli's unimpressed look at being laughed at was less funny. "Let's just get shopping, ok?"

"Sounds good."

* * *

Two and a half hours later, Gretchen is walking back home with two bags in hand. What an invigorating time! Spinelli was right, clothing does occasionally do some good for confidence. New clothes always have some form of excitement; they hold promise. Hopefully, this time around, the promise will be fulfilled.

The best part of this day for Gretchen-besides seeing Spinelli again-had to be when a few guys neither Gretchen nor Spinelli knew began hitting on them. Gretchen was flattered. So was Spinelli, but neither really was interested. Spinelli had told them to back off because Gretchen was taken (oh, how she had loved hearing that phrase). However, the boys were rather insistent. That's when Spinelli slammed her heel into one boy's foot then elbowed him in the nose that they finally retreated. Spinelli had then turned to Gretchen and declared that no friend of hers was going to go behind another friend's back. Even unintentionally. They had both laughed at the absurdity of the thought that Gretchen would ever cheat. Then they simply went back to talking about Vince-well, Gretchen talked and Spinelli listened, offering her opinion and words of encouragement when necessary.

Spinelli seemed surprisingly supportive. Almost more mature than before. Yes, she was still Spinelli-tough as nails and extremely strong-willed, but also more understanding and willing to listen. Strange but not unwelcome. Especially not when Gretchen had gotten her first date and was, admittedly, obsessing over it. It was good to have someone there to gush with.

Gretchen giggled to herself. She was very excited now. All doubts about this endeavor have been squashed thanks to Spinelli.

"Gretchen! Hey!"

Gretchen turned to find T.J. jogging towards her. Gretchen paused in her walk to wait for her friend.

"Hello T.J.," Gretchen greeted when her friend caught up to her. "Is there something you need?"

"Nah, just saw you walking by and thought I'd say hey. How's it going? What's in the bags?"

"Oh, nothing really. Just...I did some clothes shopping."

T.J.'s smile turned slightly mischievous, reminding Gretchen of Spinelli's equally mischievous grin earlier that afternoon. "Let me guess, for your date?"

Gretchen blushed. "Perhaps. Did Vince tell you?"

"Yep. Seemed pretty pleased about it too."

"He did?" Gretchen's blush deepened. She couldn't help it.

T.J. chuckled and nodded. "Uh huh. I'm happy for you two. Vince finally got the guts to ask you out."

"You knew he liked me?"

"I had my suspicions. Turns out I was right. And you like him back."

"Yes I do."

"Also right about that." T.J. nodded his approval of both his ability to be right and at Gretchen's happy smile shyly being pointed at the ground. "Glad you two got together before the school year started. I was pretty sure that Arnold Reynard wanted to ask you out. Coulda been an issue if school started. Better to avoid drama the Ashley's would gossip about."

"Funny, Spinelli said the same thing. Well, more along the lines of ' One of those nerds will have-'"

"You talked to Spinelli?" T.J. asked, his attention immediately drawn to his absent friend.

"Yes. I went shopping with her. She just-"

"Aw man!" T.J. smacked both palms against his forehead in agitation then threw his hands up in frustration. "This whomps! It's as if everyone else has seen her but me. I go by her house-she isn't there. I take a walk-she's not around. I walk by school-she disappeared! Then you guys have all talked to her, and I'm still going by her house every other minute to see if she's there and _not_ dead asleep."

Gretchen put a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder. "Please don't despair. She is eager to see you-to see us all."

"Do you know where she is now?" T.J. asked hopefully.

Gretchen gave an apologetic look along with a shake of her head. "No. I'm sorry. She said she thought of some places outside of her house that her parents could have possibly hidden her clothes and was going to go check. She didn't say where."

T.J. sighed. His look of extreme disappointment tugged at Gretchen's heartstrings. She searched for words of encouragement but came up short. T.J. and Spinelli were close, rivaling T.J. and Vince's tightly woven friendship. Gretchen always wondered if T.J. and Spinelli's childhood crushes on one another survived and grew into their later years. That look of sadness on T.J.'s face certainly was an inclination toward a positive outcome. Perhaps...but Gretchen would like more evidence before making a conclusion.

T.J. shrugged. "Ah well. I'm bound to see her before the end of summer. We're all going to hang out together before school starts even if I have to drag you each individually out of your homes."

"I will certainly be there. Just give me the time and the place. I'm sure the group will benefit from having everyone together once more."

"You can bet your science on it, Gretchen."

"T.J., that's not-"

"Not how it works. I got it. I'm more than just street smart, Gretch. Just like you're more than book smart."

Gretchen smiled at her long-time friend. "Thank you, T.J."

"You got it. I'll see you later, alright? Mom sent me on some errands, and if I stay out too late she'll get suspicious. You'd think I'd get more trust after not breaking it for years."

"But T.J., what about that time three months ago-"

"Alright, alright. So nobody's perfect. Can't say that I'm not trying, though."

Gretchen chuckled. "I suppose you _are_ trying. Have a good evening, T.J."

"You too, Gretchen. Later."

* * *

For the rest of the evening, after Gretchen put away her new clothes, she cleaned the mess in her lab with a smile on her face and a light heart.


	4. Mikey

**Sorry for the wait, but it took a while to get this chapter to feel like it flowed. Now that it's done, I believe I am happy with it. Two more chapters to go! Yay! Please review and remember that I don't own Recess (sadly).**

* * *

 **Chapter 4 - Mikey**

* * *

"See you later, Mikey!"

"Great work today."

"Thanks for the help!"

"Thank you, guys," Mikey called after his departing dance troop. "Have a wonderful evening."

With the door to the aerobics room closed leaving him alone, Mikey allowed his seemingly ever-present smile to disappear. He took a deep breath and turned to look back at his reflection in the wall of mirrors. His smile didn't return. Dance practice had been splendid. His practice for the upcoming community theatre production had been splendid. Hanging out with Gus earlier today had been splendid. However, Mikey did not feel splendid. He didn't even feel fine. He felt worn-down. Lacking in motivation.

Mikey considered himself quite well off in life, especially when looking at the people in his life. He worked with wonderful people in all the activities he participated in, his family was always supportive, and his group of friends were loyal beyond belief some days. However, Mikey occasionally felt the toll that bullying took. Today was one of those days that the judgmental looks, whispered words, and occasional hurtful phrase aimed at him just made him feel...tired. One group of teens in particular seemed to choose him for ridicule that day. They scattered hurtful phrases just enough to make sure Mikey heard them but did not alert others with their frequency or volume.

The already slightly-stressful summer with the group trying to have as much fun as they did with Spinelli began to weigh on Mikey like a cinderblock on his back. Sure, his friends were supportive, but Mikey could feel the lack of energy caused by Spinelli's absence. He personally felt a loss of protection. Yes, Mikey could stand up for himself. He was strong in his own way. However, having Spinelli's no-nonsense attitude and fierce loyalty helped keep up his defenses, fighting the battles even he wasn't aware of. The larger teen was absolute sure that Spinelli has fought some of his battles for him—literally. Mikey has seen T.J. restraining her from ripping apart cruel adolescents he knows have mocked him before. He was grateful, no doubt, but he wished that she would find a less-violent way of fighting. That would not be Spinelli though. He fought with words and she fought with fists.

He sure missed her.

Mikey turned on the music to one of his favorite slow songs, took a deep breath, and began to dance. He closed his eyes and went through his routine from memory. However, he soon strayed from the current routine his dance group was working on and danced whatever he felt. Most of it was slow—melancholy—dancing a more interpretive dance on the ill feelings he currently was experiencing.

The aerobics room where Mikey and his team practiced their routine was in the middle of a recreational center. Many people came to work out there. Their fit forms taunted Mikey. Usually, the larger teenager was able to push away the inferior feeling he felt, but sometimes it was too much, and it overwhelmed him.

The song faded away. When it ended completely, Mikey finished with a slip, arms in the air, eyes still closed. He allowed his emotions to rush through him for the time being. Tears pooled in his eyes but had yet to fall.

Mikey was so wrapped up in his own thoughts and emotions that he did not hear the subtle sounds of someone who sneaked into the room and was creeping up behind him. Said person placed their hands on Mikey's eyes and laughed.

"Guess who, Big Guy!"

Spinelli.

Spinelli had struck out in her search for her old clothing so she decided to blow of some steam at the gym. That is, until she saw Mikey through the window to the aerobics room. She hadn't seen him yet and thought it would be fun to surprise him. Mikey always loved surprises.

Mikey did love surprises. This one was especially lovable. Spinelli herself. Wonderful, riveting, loyal Spinelli. Spinelli was here and not in Italy, keeping their group of friends from being complete. She was here, behind him. A pillar of strength in his moment of weakness. The overwhelming relief was just the trigger necessary for his emotions to take over.

"Mikey?" Spinelli pulled her hands away, feeling the wetness left on them from Mikey's tears. She watched her friend suddenly crumble into himself. He curled his legs close and put his hands over his face to hide his sensitive display. For a moment, Spinelli was at a loss of what to do. Sure, Mikey had cried before—he was never afraid of showing emotion. Everyone was used to it. He even fake-cried for his performances. But this? Something seriously had to be wrong for him to cry so forcefully.

"Aw Mikey." Spinelli got down on her knees. At first she simply placed her hand on his shoulder, but then, when Mikey kept leaning closer to her, she wrapped her arms around him and allowed him to shed tears over her new jacket straight from an Italian tailor. She patiently waited out Mikey's episode.

Finally, the teen's eyes dried. Only a few stray sniffles remained. He pulled back and hiccupped while trying to laugh.

"I apologize, Spinelli," Mikey said, his voice raw. "You have returned and you received such a horrendous greeting from me. One— _hic_ —moment more and I shall be composed." Spinelli's expression, to Mikey, seemed to portray extreme concern. Honestly, he didn't want her to be unhappy because of him. So he tried composing himself faster. It proved difficult when his nose kept running and fat teardrops still fell from his eyes.

Black leather was suddenly thrust in his face. His surprise stalls Mikey in his understanding of what to do with the object.

"Take it and wipe your face. You're gushing everywhere," Spinelli said. She didn't look at him when she spoke.

"But Spinelli, this looks brand— _hic_ —brand new." This smooth leather was shiny with beauty. Not worn and full of repaired rips, tares, and holes like the one Spinelli had had for years. She must have gotten it in Italy. "How can I— _hic_ —take such a beauty? I might ruin it."

Spinelli laughed. She looked at her friend when she did so. " _Please_ ruin my jacket. That'll teach mom not to make me wear girly stuff. I still have my old one. Besides, you already got your snot on it. No harm in a little more."

Mikey still hesitated. "I— _hic_ —"

"Just take it!" Spinelli exclaimed, putting it in his hands.

Mikey did as told, dabbing his eyes, nose, and forehead (he worked up a sweat while dancing). When finished, Mikey's eyes were dry, and he feels no need to cry. Actually, he felt at peace. Vince once asked him why he cried so much. Mikey told him it was a healthy release rather than bottling up unhealthy emotions that can come out in less desirable outlets. It makes his happiness happier when he feels sadness on occasion.

"It's good to see you, Spinelli," Mikey said as he handed the jacket back to Spinelli. The short teen took it, wadded it up, and tossed it to the edge of the room. There it laid in a crumpled mess. There was a pause of silence which Mikey expected Spinelli to fill. She did not, so Mikey did. "How was your summer? Was Italy—?"

"Cut the crap, Mikey," Spinelli said, all laughter gone. Anger appears now but underneath, concern drove the extreme emotion. "What were you crying about?"

Mikey sighed. Spinelli was not afraid of confrontation. One way or another she would get the answers out of you. Mikey knew it would be useless to try and brush this one under the rug.

"Nothing new. I simply grew tired of the comments others make about my weight. But life is not without pain. 'Happiness is not a life without pain, but rather a life in which the pain is traded for a worthy price' as spoken by Orson Scott Card." Mikey tried smiling, but Spinelli's frown stomped it out pretty quickly. "I am no strangers to bullies, Spinelli. This summer simply had a few too many."

"Why now? What made you cry now?" Spinelli questioned stoically. Mikey really was surprised at her ability to keep a straight face when confronting so much emotion. He usually took on whatever emotion the speaker was feeling.

"There were a few teenagers who made fun of my size earlier today when I first came here." Mikey sighed again, still feeling the residual effects of his cry. "They were...less discreet with their mockery. It even affected my dancing. I did not dance my best during practice today. It...I am tired."

Spinelli's heavy breathing and clenched fists were the first indication that she was on the war path. She spoke through clenched teeth when she said "I'll kill 'em. I'll tear them to _pieces_. I'll—"

"No, Spinelli! That is the one thing you mustn't do!" Mikey put a restraining hand on Spinelli's forearm. He knows in the long run it won't do too much if Spinelli's mind is set on ruining the physical lives of those who did him wrong. She would find a way, but he hoped his plea and their friendship meant more than her revenge. "I realize they are in the wrong and that their hearts are not where they should be, but I would never wish harm on anyone. It pains me to see others in pain. If you must fight and I am the cause, please fight with your words or do not fight at all! For my sake. Please."

It took a full minute and a half for Spinelli to calm down enough not to jump to her feet and hunt down those good-for-nothings. Mikey's pleading face held her back more than anything anyone could have done physically to her then. Mikey was sensitive. She knew that. She tried respecting that. It was difficult and sometimes she offends him. Thankfully he understood that her personality was different than his. He quickly and easily forgave when she overstepped boundaries.

"They're stupid."

"Now Spinelli—"

"No, Mikey. They. Are. _Stupid_." Spinelli's earnestness was expressed verbally and nonverbally. She got on her knees and leaned towards Mikey, using her hands for emphasis as she made her point. "For one, they're stupid for judging people in general. And two, they mocked the nicest guy I know who wouldn't even harm a fly and that makes them cowards for trying to pick a fight with someone who has the desire to fight that equals a butterfly's. And C, they don't know you. You need that weight. Without that weight you wouldn't be able to throw those girls in the air and catch them again. Those shrimpy dorks can't do that. Besides, there is no one I know that can win a hot dog eating contest and a pie eating contest in the same day. Worst of all, they don't know that you are probably the best pal anyone could have."

Spinelli paused in her rant to take a breath. It was like all her strength not aimed at beating someone up was redirected into her words.

Mikey was at a loss for words. He sat there, staring at Spinelli. Spinelli finally took notice of his shock and dipped her head in embarrassment. No matter her embarrassment, though, she pressed on. He needed to hear this.

"You are so nice all the time Mikey. It's like a super power for you. I know you know that the world is filled with some really cruel people, but you still try to find the good in people. You see the good in me, even. I'm not the...nicest person ever. You help me to not bash in someone's skull by pointing out all their good points rather than just holding me back. I—I'm...I'm really glad you're my friend. Like, _really_ glad. Anytime you wanna cry or something, go ahead. I'm not gonna judge you like those _idiots_. You are the best already so you don't need to change your body or how you deal with stuff. You're doin' pretty good by yourself."

The tears almost came back at that last phrase. Mikey grabbed Spinelli. He picked her up and hugged the stuffing out of her. He could hear her back crack and her choking attempt at breathing. He would let go before she died of strangling, but he needed to hug her. He needed her to tangibly feel his gratefulness for her words. Talking was not Spinelli's strong suit, and any attempt from her to put her thoughts into words was appreciated. This little display she gave was far beyond appreciated. Appreciated was an understatement.

"Thank you, dear Spinelli," Mikey said wholeheartedly. He finally let her go. Spinelli fell onto the floor in a heap. She gasped for breath while on her hands and knees. When she recovered, she stood up and smiled.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't get all mushy on me." Spinelli's smile faltered momentarily. "Sorry for calling you Big Guy all the time."

Mikey laughed. He didn't even think about that. "Oh Spinelli, you mean it out of love, not hate. I know the difference between a nickname and name-calling. Besides, I am a big guy."

Spinelli's smile returned full-force. "Good." The spitfire rocked on her feet a moment. A debate was going on in her head. Mikey could tell by the concentrated look on her face, that's why he waits patiently for her to speak. "Hey. Since you're feeling better, I bet your dance mojo is back. Ya wanna dance? I'll...I'll be your partner."

Mikey's already large smile grew. "Spinelli, you haven't been my dance partner since Third Street School. Are you certain?"

Spinelli moved passed her embarrassment, gave out a slight huff, and crossed her arms in determination. "What? Ya wanna dance alone?"

"No, no. I was just wondering if you could handle it." Mikey's challenging grin was what informed Spinelli that he was joking, further baiting her into dancing and helping her get over her nerves at not having danced in years.

"Oh, I can handle it. Bring it on, Big Guy."

—

An hour later, the two friends finally had to stop dancing since the facility was closing. They left the place joking and laughing. Both friends were in high spirits. That is, until laughter that was not their own, reached their ears. It was a laugh of mockery, not of joy. Spinelli and Mikey turned to see another group of people. Mikey recognized them as the teens from earlier who had made fun of him. Spinelli noticed his tenseness.

"Is that them?" Spinelli asked.

"Yes," Mikey said reluctantly. Then added "Please do not engage physically."

Spinelli simply gritted her teeth and did not respond.

"Hey Hefty!" one of the boys from the group yelled. "Did the gym actually do you any good? I don't see a change."

"Come, Spinelli. We do not need to humor their ill attempts at humor. The true comedian, Shakespeare, has far outdone them." Mikey pulled on the girl's arm, but still she refused to move despite him having several inches and pounds on her. Maybe if he had the guts, he could move her. But who dare try to force Spinelli into anything?

"Is that your girlfriend? Does she know what she's getting into?" One of the two girls in the group asked, earning chuckles from the others.

"How about coming with us instead, sweet cheeks?" another of the boys asked.

"How about shutting your face?" Spinelli called back. Her voice was surprisingly calm.

"Oooh, got some fight in you, I see," the same boy said. He took a few steps closer to the two friends. "How about ditching the dunce and enjoying some real company?"

"He is _not_ a dunce," Spinelli said. " _You_ are and I hate you. Scum!"

This didn't seem to faze anyone from the other group. Spinelli turned back to Mikey. She frowned. "I'm not good with fighting with words. This is why I use my fists."

Mikey's heart swelled with appreciation. Spinelli actually did respect his wishes and tried fighting with words instead of fists. Mikey patted her on her shoulder and stepped forward. "Thank you, Spinelli. That was a valiant attempt. If I may, I would like to demonstrate on how to fight with words."

Spinelli bowed out. She backed away and stood to the side with a smile of anticipation on her face. Mikey cleared his throat. These goons didn't know what they unleashed.

"My good man," Mikey said to the first boy, "thou art an artless idle-headed varlot!"

That was just the start. Mikey unleashed a slew of Shakespearean smack-down without a stutter holding him back. His strong lungs held enough air to insult each person twice-over. The variety of names being called to the four dishonorable groupmates were no match for Mikey's knowledge of seemingly endless amount of Shakespearean insults. When Mikey finally finished up his long-winded, tasteful word-fight, all those around him were stunned. The silence that followed was deafening. Mikey gave a small bow to his foes before turning and offering Spinelli his arm which she gladly took, sticking her tongue out at the flabbergasted four behind her.

"Impressive," Spinelli said to her friend.

"Why thank you." Happiness swelled within Mikey. "You see, Spinelli, not everything has to be fought with fists."

However, rather than leaving things as they were, the most obnoxious of the four refused to have them leave without getting the last word. He then proceeded to do a very stupid thing. He insulted Spinelli. "Yeah keep walking, Fatty! And take your—" the words that followed were directed at Spinelli and of the most abhorrent any female could hear. Spinelli stopped in her tracks. Her face was void of emotion. She casually looked up at Mikey. Her unanswered question has Mikey shrugging.

"Hey, they didn't insult me. It isn't _my_ battle. Fight your battle however you deem worthy."

Spinelli gave Mikey a brief hug. "Thanks, Mikey. Don't wait up. This could take a while. I want to make sure they get the message that name-calling isn't nice." She then turned, threw her already ruined jacket onto the ground, and let out a war cry. The four troublemakers screamed and ran in terror as Spinelli charged after them, fully intended to fight her battle the way she does best—by bringing Madame Fist into the mix.

The larger, but gentler, teen watched as Spinelli tackled the man that insulted her to the ground, burying his face in the dirt. That would only be the start. There was no doubt in Mikey's mind that she would continue maiming the unfortunate soul then hunt the others down so they could feel her wrath.

Mikey chuckled to himself and began walking home. It was good to have the backbone of the group back in action.


	5. TJ Part 1

_Sorry! I know it's been a while, but this chapter is long, complicated, and beautiful (to me). However, it is still not finished. This is just part one of the chapter. Part two will come in soon! I have not forgotten about this story. I'm just trying to figure out the best way to go about it. Hope you enjoy it. Oh, and I still don't own any rights to these wonderful characters._

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 **Chapter 5 - T.J.**

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"This whomps," T.J. Detweiler muttered to himself as he lay down on the floor of his treehouse. He tossed a small hacky sack in the air and caught it again. Over and over. It was a thoughtless repetition that kept his hands busy as his mind focused on other, more pressing matters.

He had narrowly missed seeing Spinelli. _Again_. Mikey had called up this morning, saying how happy he was to have such devoted and kindly friends. When pressed for the reason behind such a confidence-boosting call, Mikey admitted that he had a run-in with Spinelli. T.J. had pressed for details, but Mikey did not know where she was. T.J. had even gone over to her house to check, but she wasn't there. Now he laid here, brooding at seven o'clock at night. Thankfully, since it was summer, the world was still pretty bright. He could see her house out the window. He had kept vigil for a while, but gave up after an hour. His frustration at the whole situation was beginning to affecting the rest of his activities. He lost motivation a lot faster than usual.

The first time T.J. didn't catch Spinelli wasn't such a big deal. He knew he'd see her. He only lived a few houses down. He could pop in whenever he wanted and say hi-at least, that's what he had thought. Then it kept happening. No, he couldn't see her, her mom would say. She's busy. She's sleeping. She's not home. She sleeping some more.

Basically, he couldn't see her no matter what he tried, and he had _tried_.

His brilliant mind had a natural knack for scheming. Only for good, though. Never evil. (Sometimes mischievous activities meant to ruffle a few feathers, but nothing to truly inconvenience another human being.) He tried coming over periodically over the past few days to get an idea for a solid sleeping pattern. He might catch her when she's awake, but that didn't work. Her sleeping was sporadic and unpredictable. He tried getting her parents to make her call him when she got a chance. They said they would, but he has yet to get a call. Then he remembered how difficult it was for Spinelli to "borrow" a family member's phone. She still does not have a new one. He even told his friends to call him when they found her. Too late for that one, though. Mikey was the last one who hadn't seen her, and he had totally forgot to call T.J. while Spinelli was in his sights. For good reason at least, but still!

In a bout of frustration, T.J. sat up and threw the hacky sack against the wall of the tree house. It hit the wood with a dull _thud_ , not satisfying enough to T.J.'s momentary anger. A frustrated sigh was all that his low energy levels had left to give. Not seeing one of his absolute best friends in the whole world was really taking a toll on him.

It had been hard to motivate the group during Spinelli's absence. She was spunk. The spark. Feisty. Strong. Spinelli had once told T.J. that he was the glue that held the group together. If that was true, then she was the backbone that helped the group stand tall. Mikey was the one to help the group keep emotions in check and embraced. Gretchen was the one to help the group maintain a level head. Gus was the one to see possibilities with different outcomes, helping keep the group safe and stable. Vince was the one to give courage and challenge. When combined, they were unstoppable. Apart, and things began to crack.

The sound of someone approaching had T.J.'s heart jumping in hopes of it being a certain friend. That was crushed when he sees his sister come through the opening in the treehouse floor.

"Hey, dork," Becky Detweiler greeted as she brought herself up into the treehouse.

"What do you want, Becky?" T.J. asked, not too willing to entertain his sister's sarcasm right now.

"Nothing." Becky said. She leaned against the far wall of the treehouse which was a perfect angle to watch T.J. Her little brother gave her a long, hard stare before Becky held up her hands in defense. "What? I can't come up here and see what my mopey little brother is being all depressed about?"

"None of your business," T.J. said. He retook the hacky sack and focused on it instead of his sibling.

Becky regarded him a minute which had T.J. feeling uncomfortable. Then she smirked. "I think it's _something big_ ," she sing-songed.

"What do you care?" T.J. asked rather than denied. "You're a full-fledged college graduate with three different job offers to think about. My problems shouldn't even be on your radar."

Becky's joking demeanor left at T.J.'s subtle accusation. The weight she felt at his words had her slouching. After a heartbeat filled with sadness from both parties, Becky leaned forward. "I know I haven't had a lot of time for you. I'm sorry, and I know sorry doesn't cover for me not being around, but I still love you."

T.J. shrugged. "Hey, I get it. You're an adult now. You gotta think about these things-focus on them. I'm not a part of them."

"But you are a part of my life," Becky countered, "and I know that when you're being a grouch, it's something that's really messing you up. You're so optimistic that it sometimes scares me when you're down. I can't just sit by and watch. I want to help."

T.J. genuinely smiled at his sister. "Thanks, Becky, but I don't think this is something you can fix."

Becky's serious face melted into a knowing, and somewhat playful smile. "It's Spinelli, isn't it?" Although it was phrased like a question, Becky's words were more like a statement.

At the mention of his best friend's name, T.J. felt that familiar unhappiness that had been plaguing him all summer. "She's been home like three days and I haven't seen her yet."

"I bet it's not from lack of trying," Becky chuckled, knowing her brother's persistence.

"I've done everything! Everyone else has seen her, and I'm still here-pointlessly sitting in my treehouse, waiting for a miracle."

Becky shook her head lovingly. T.J. had a heart of gold. His loyalty was beyond anything Becky had ever seen. But still she wondered if it was only loyalty that tied T.J. to Spinelli.

"Are you sure you missed her?" Becky asked. The dark look she gets from T.J. only makes her smile.

"Are you sure all that college did you any good? Because when you ask stupid questions like that, it seems like your smallish brain didn't retain anything."

T.J.'s insult bounced off of Becky. She continued down the path she created. "I mean, out of all your friends, I always thought she was the one you would cut off first."

" _What?_ What gave you that impression?"

Becky shrugged, trying very hard not to laugh for the sake of her plan. "She just doesn't seem like someone you would hang out with. She's so...loud."

"I'm loud!" T.J. nearly yelled. "You've told me a million times to shut up. And so what if Spinelli is loud? She gets her point across. She's persistent and strong. And she is my _friend_."

"Hmm, whatever you say, bro." Becky inspected her nails. "I just think you'd be better off without her."

"Be-better..." T.J. sputtered. Then he exploded. " _How can you even say that?_ She's got to be the most amazing person I've ever met. She-"

"I thought you had said that about Vince."

"The most amazing _girl_ I've ever met."

"Why? You've said she's strong. Good for her. Strength won't win her any awards, though. That's probably the only thing going for her, though. Not the best of the bunch, if you ask me."

Becky briefly wondered if she went too far in her pursuit when T.J.'s face turns red and his hands clench into fists. The only reason he probably wasn't beating her to a pulp was because she's his sister.

"You don't know anything!" T.J. shouted. "She's the most amazing, wonderful-"

"Beautiful," Becky interjected helpfully, still unfazed by her brother's outburst.

"-beautiful girl that ever existed. She will do anything for any of her friends. She even helps those she doesn't know. She fights for the little guy. She's loyal, strong, kind, and unrelenting when necessary. Her personality keeps a person guessing and makes someone laugh even when they feel like scum."

"I still don't think she's much of a looker," Becky said.

"Then you better get your eyesight checked because Spinelli outranks every pageant winner combined. She is so far off the scale of one to ten that she could blind a guy with a smile. And-"

"And you love her,"

"And I love her!"

Dead silence.

The words that left T.J.'s mouth paralyzed him. He sat there, completely taken aback by what just came out.

Becky's face melted into a knowing smile. "That's what I thought."

T.J.'s anger at his sister's manipulation is not as fierce as it could be because the total shock has yet to wear off. Still, he manages to be angry enough to say "That was a dirty trick."

"But you meant it didn't you?"

T.J. slumped back against the wall of the treehouse. He suddenly felt extremely tired. From not seeing his best friend? From the amount of energy he put into the argument? From trying to keep his friends together for an entire bummer summer? His revelation? Who knows? All T.J. knew was that he was tired. But there was still a little fight in him.

"Sure, sure," T.J. shrugged. "She's my best friend. Of course I love her. I love all my friends."

Becky shook her head. "You know what I mean."

T.J. couldn't look at her. He refused to speak.

"It's ok. I just wanted to make sure _you_ knew. Sometimes, you can be dense, little brother. You don't have to do anything about it right now. Just...sit on it. Let it simmer, but don't you dare brush it off. Stuff like this should be taken seriously. I should know. I've done it enough times to create enough 'what if' scenarios to fill a stadium."

Becky headed for the exit. She began climbing down the ladder, but just before she disappeared, T.J. stopped her.

"You're not such a bad sister," T.J. said honestly. He smiled at her. "Sometimes it's not so difficult to believe we're related."

Becky smiled back. "Same to you, kid. Oh! In all the excitement, I almost forgot to mention. Spinelli's mom hid her clothes over at our house. They were stuffed in the spare room. Mrs. Spinelli finally told her where they were. I got a call from her not too long ago and came to tell you. I'm pretty sure she will be here any minute if she isn't here already."

Becky left the treehouse and her dumbfounded brother behind.

The urge to run to the spare room was strong. It was only suppressed by the new uncertainty dug up by the recent conversation. Then T.J. remembered his sister's advice. Let it simmer. Don't push it. Just...see what happens. Think now, act later.

T.J. glanced out the window and nearly froze when he saw someone he was sure was Spinelli sprinting down the sidewalk towards his house. He felt his stomach lurch and his heart quicken a pace. However, T.J. was not one to back away when things became difficult. So he took a deep breath, gave himself a brief pep-talk, and entered the house.


	6. TJ Part 2

**THIS CHAPTER IS FOR ALL YOU WONDERFUL REVIEWERS! I love you all and thank you very deeply for your feedback and encouragement. I'm _superbly_ happy you are enjoying the story. One more chapter to go, and I _promise_ I will not abandon this story to oblivion. The last chapter shall appear. Until then, enjoy the update and the shipping goodness (because let's face it, T.J. and Spinelli are one of the greatest couples to come out of this show-how can I not adore them?)**

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The loud knocking coming from the front door alerted the entire house to the guest. Mrs. Detweiler was walking towards the door when T.J. flew past her.

" _Igotit_ ," he said so fast that it became one word. Mrs. Detweiler had a lecture and three good health tips on the end of her tongue for her hurried son. She kept them to herself, though, after noticing through the kitchen window that it was Spinelli coming to call. T.J. deserved the time with his friend. Quietly, she slipped back into the kitchen.

T.J. opened the door. There she was in all her glory...well. Sort of. Not her usual glory. She was in a dress. A pretty, silky, red dress with lace straps. Because of the material's shorter length, T.J. noticed there were no shoes on her feet. That is what brought T.J. back to the fact that this was Spinelli before him and not some European fashion freak that came knocking. Her hair was windblown and her cheeks were flushed from her run over here.

She looked amazing.

In the half-second that T.J. needed to come to that conclusion—enough time for his heart to swell with happiness and his cheeks to hurt with how wide his smile was—Spinelli took that half-second to accomplish a different goal.

"Where are they?!" She practically shouted.

Another half-second passed where T.J. gathered the words to answer her was too long for Spinelli's current amount of patience. So she took action. She grabbed T.J.'s hand and dragged him upstairs.

"I need those back," Spinelli told him while tugging on his arm. T.J. nearly tripped a few times while trying to keep up. "Do you know the torture I've had to go through? Dresses, skirts, blouses—everything. My mom is trying to kill me! I cannot believe she _hid_ my clothes. I should have known they would be here. But I've got 'em now. _You do not win this, Mom!_ "

Spinelli released T.J.'s hand as soon as they reached the top of the stairs. She first went into T.J.'s room, half out of habit and half out of suspecting the hiding place of her clothes. T.J. watched in shock as she tore through his closet, checked under his bed, and sifted through each of his drawers. When she found nothing, the fiery girl turned to her best friend and stared him down with a glare that nonverbally threatened his very existence.

"Where are they?" she asked a little too calmly, a sure-fire way to tell that she was on the war path.

T.J. got over his shock rather quickly. He felt like he should be mad at her for ripping through his room or sad that she hasn't properly greeted him or happy she was there. A mix of all three emotions brought him to smirk at her and say, "Hi, Spinelli. Good to see you to. Missed you."

This brought Spinelli down a notch. Her cheeks turned red. Her stare turned to the ground. "Hi," she said shortly. "Can I please have my clothes back now?"

At that phrase, T.J.'s happiness was brought down several notches and replaced with more sadness and anger. Wasn't she happy to see him? Didn't she miss him? What was wrong with her?

"Uh...yeah. They're in the spare room."

T.J. followed Spinelli as she hurried down the hall and into the room where her things were hidden. There they were, nicely folded on the bed, waiting for her. Spinelli leapt onto the bed. She briefly flew through the air until she landed on the soft mound below. Her giggling and shouts of joy rang throughout the house.

"Aw, I missed you guys. I thought you were gone forever. You have no idea what I had to go through while you were gone." Spinelli found her leather jacket and hugged it to herself. "I missed you most of all. I won't ever let you out of my sight again."

T.J. watched from where he was leaning against the door frame as Spinelli put on the jacket, tucked it around herself, and hummed in pleasure and relief. His sour mood turned worse.

"Glad to know you missed your clothes," T.J. said bitterly. "It's not like you haven't seen me for a whole summer or anything. I'm replaceable. Your clothes apparently are not."

Spinelli's shocked look melted as she began laughing. She got up off the bed and threw herself at her best friend. She wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him tight enough to remind him of her almost unnatural strength. T.J. tried to remain mad at her—he really tried—but this was his Spinelli. He missed her way too much. So he found himself returning the hug. She smelled exactly like he remembered. She's still short too. T.J. isn't too big himself, though he did take up football freshman and sophomore year of high school, but he always liked the fact that he was taller than Spinelli.

When Spinelli finally pulled away, T.J.'s anger had dwindled significantly. "Sorry. I didn't mean to brush you aside, but I _needed_ my clothes back. It was a matter of life and death." At T.J.'s skeptical look, Spinelli shrugged. "Well, my life anyway. People treat me differently when I wear a skirt. It sucks. Apparently clothes not only make the man, they make the woman too—any which way they please."

"What do you mean?" T.J. asked.

Spinelli scowled. "Nothing. I'm just glad it's over now. Things can go back to normal with everybody." Spinelli turned back to her pile of clothes and began gathering them up. "It's good to see ya, Teej. Wanna go get a soda at Kelso's? Your summer has got to be better than mine, and I wanna hear all about it. Can you help me carry my clothes first? They've been away from home too long, just like their owner."

T.J. chuckled. "Sure Spinelli." The young man moved forward, totally prepared to be loaded up like a donkey with his friend's burden when he caught sight of Spinelli's face. She was fiddling with the end of her dress, a solemn look on her face. When she saw T.J. staring, she brought the smile back on her face. She tried handing him some more clothes, but T.J. took them and dumped them back on the bed.

"What gives, T.J.?" Spinelli asked.

"What gives with you?" T.J. asked. "Why are you sad?"

"I'm not sad!" Spinelli exclaimed.

"Then what was that look?"

"What look?"

"That sad look."

"I already told you, I'm not sad."

T.J. crossed his arms. For a solid thirty seconds the best friends had a stare-down. Spinelli was the first to cave. Years of being under T.J.'s leadership have her in the habit of trusting her best friend and giving in to what he wants even if it sounded crazy. He's proven himself a great leader and best friend. Maybe he can understand her this time too.

Spinelli crossed her arms and looked anywhere but her friend. "It's just...I'm—I was treated differently. It's the clothes fault. I needed my old clothes back."

"Why are the clothes at fault?" T.J. asked.

"Ever since I came back, things have been wrong. Did I tell you I got hit on by Lawson?"

T.J.'s hands clenched into fists. "Yeah, I heard. But Lawson's done horrible stuff to us before. He shouldn't be the one to make you freak out. It takes a lot more than him being an idiot to phase you."

"Well, it wasn't only him," Spinelli admitted. She sunk down to the floor, leaning back against the bed. T.J. sat on the floor beside her. Spinelli stayed quiet a minute, glancing at T.J. every now and then. T.J. was almost afraid now. Spinelli? Uncomfortable? Around _him?_ This wasn't good. This wasn't even normal.

Spinelli took a deep breath and tried phrasing her problems in a way her friend might understand and forgive her for. "It wasn't my fault my mom wanted to convert me into a doll. Sure, she says she likes me like I am, but she also tries getting me into all this new stuff. Now, she actually managed to do it, and it's...I've gotten some weird reactions."

T.J.'s eyebrows furrowed in thought. "The guys treated you differently?"

"Not—entirely," Spinelli admitted. "They at first treated me differently, but then they didn't. Everything was normal."

That was really confusing. T.J. needed clarification. "Alright, Spinelli, not seeing a problem here. You're back. Everything's like it should be. We are all together before school ends."

Spinelli looked extremely uncomfortable. T.J. tried to put his arm around her, but the spitfire teen squirmed out of his hold. Spinelli was never one for excessive physical contact outside of violence, but it was a rare occurrence when she turns it down from T.J. The amount of trust she had for him granted him certain rights the others were restricted to.

"Teej, you gotta answer me honestly here, ok?" Spinelli said to her friend without taking her eyes off the floor.

"Always, Spinelli."

Spinelli's eyes cautiously trailed up to meet his. "Am I mean?'

T.J. would have laughed if she hadn't look so scared. "What? Spinelli, what gave you that idea? Of course you're not mean."

Spinelli looked away from her friend again. "I just...you might be wrong. The others think I'm mean."

"What?" T.J.'s mind raced to try and find an explanation. Had the others done something to Spinelli? Said something? They all seemed ecstatic after seeing her again. Happier than all summer, even. "I don't understand. Our friends think you're great."

"Yeah, sure," Spinelli snorted. "That's why they flinched at me when I got close. That's why they opened up to me—after I got nice clothes. These stupid clothes—" Spinelli bunched up the skirt of her dress between her fists. "—made me look like someone else. Someone nice. Someone who wouldn't beat up their friends. I beat up Vince. Did he tell you that? I got mad at him. I was rough with all the others. They were afraid of me. I saw it with my own eyes. I'm mean. I'm _horrible_. I'm...you all deserve better than me. Better than a mean friend."

T.J. grabbed Spinelli, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against him, allowing her to cry against his signature jacket. If friendly physical contact was rare, tears were nearly unheard of when it came to Spinelli. T.J. had only seen her cry three times in his life, this being one of them. One sob-fest was enough in his opinion. He didn't need his best friend losing it, especially not over some reason she made up in her mind. His strong, brave, kind-hearted, beautiful friend didn't deserve to cry. She deserved to be happy all the time, but T.J. completely understood that sometimes people just needed to let it out. Really, after a summer apart from all her friends only to come back and think they see her totally different was enough of a reason to shed a few tears.

Spinelli cried until all that was left was a few sobs here and there with the occasional shudder. T.J. rubbed her back, trying to soothe her as the last of her tears feel. When she tried pulling away, T.J. kept her close with a strong arm around her, allowing her to rest her head on his shoulder.

"Sorry, I—"

"Shut up and listen, Spinelli," T.J. said in the voice that he uses for when he is carrying out a scheme—authoritative yet calm. "You've been gone all summer and let me tell you, it has been one of the worst summers of my life. That's even taking into account the summer you all were gone to different camps. Everyone was out of it. Yeah we had our own problems as you heard, but the biggest problem was not having you around. It's like our whole momentum was thrown off! We suffer more without you than with you—and that doesn't mean you make us suffer.

"Really, Spin. What even put the idea that you're mean in your head? Ok, so sometimes we have to watch our steps when you're around, but that's because you punish us when we deserve it. There hasn't been a time when you hurt us that we didn't bring it upon ourselves. Vince told me afterwards that you knocked some sense into him and that he was grateful for it. You helped him get over his fear in your own special way. You care. You're not mean. You're tough. Big difference. Sure, you can be a little forward with your words and actions when it comes to other people, but that doesn't mean you're bad. I've seen you use them for good plenty of times. Remember when you went after Harold Bertoni after he poured chocolate milk in Newton Greene's locker? He didn't mess with anyone months after you got through with him."

T.J. found his mind trailing off towards the conversation with his sister he had earlier. He remembers the reasons he spoke then and decided that verbalizing them now would be a good idea.

T.J. took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "Spinelli, you know how wonderful you are. Don't let these little things get in the way of your awesomeness. You are brave, strong, and beautiful with or without the fancy clothes. Sure, sometimes things change. You gotta remember we are in the middle of our teenage years. If movies and meddling adults' opinions are to be trusted, then we are changing, finding our own style, you know? I mean, I even went through a showbiz phase. Remember that?"

Spinelli snorted—a fairly unattractive sound with her stuffy nose, but it was a laugh nonetheless. The memory of T.J. in a flashy outfit on stage next to Mikey was a hilarious thought that never failed to make her snicker. "You looked like a dork."

T.J. chuckled. "Yeah. Good times. But that's my point. I tried and found out it wasn't for me, but I did realize that showbiz is a lot like student council. You gotta play the part in order to actually pull off the production. Whatever this clothing phase has got you freaked out about, realize that something good is bound to come out of it and that we've all got 'em. We're still going through them even. Just...don't shut us out because of it. I don't think I could go another day, let alone a whole summer, without you again."

Spinelli was quiet a moment before asking, "Really?"

"I'm insulted you even have to ask."

T.J. pulled her closer, hugging her tightly against him, relishing the fact that she was here with him and not an ocean away. Spinelli wrapped her arms around his torso, returning the embrace. After a few minutes of the soothing gesture, Spinelli pulled away. She turned away from T.J. and wiped at her face.

"Great," she grumbled. "Now I'm a mess. This is why I don't cry."

"Nah, it's good. Getting it all out. I've got a sister. She's cried more than her fair share." T.J. got to his knees and did a quick search of the clothing pile. He found what he was looking for and sat back down. The article of clothing—a red-orange knit cap—was placed on Spinelli's head. She fixed it so it lay correctly. "There. That's more like it. Actually, you look a lot like you did in Third Street. Red dress, black jacket, knit cap—it's all there."

"But no striped stockings and no boots," Spinelli pointed out.

"Ah well. Close enough." T.J. ruffled Spinelli's hat, messing it up.

Spinelli rolled her eyes in good humor before fixing it once again. When that was done, Spinelli looked up and at T.J. and met his eyes. "Thanks, T.J. Really."

T.J. felt the weight of the world lift off his shoulders and peace settle in its place with a dash of happiness. "You're welcome, Spinelli. Really." It wasn't until Spinelli looked away, blushing, that T.J. realized he had been staring. He cleared his throat and got to his feet. He offered a hand up to Spinelli who took it. "So, how about we get your clothes back to their rightful place then head down to Kelso's. I could go for a soda."

"Me too!" Spinelli said heartily. "Just let me wash my face first. I feel disgusting."

T.J. nodded. "You know where it is."

When Spinelli had gone, T.J. turned back to the pile of clothing. A lot of the clothes were worn-out pieces of comfortable clothing. Spinelli always managed to pull them off. She can pull off the newer, nicer ones too, T.J. concluded, remembering how she looked in the red dress. Spinelli can do anything she wants. Spinelli is wonderful, just like he said. He knew it all along. He was glad he could make her realize it too.

* * *

T.J. and Spinelli went to Kelso's after transporting Spinelli's clothes. They also went to the park, walked passed Third Street and Fourth Street Schools, dawdled a little while by the pond, and wandered around town until well past dark. The two just didn't seem to want to have their time together end. They were catching up on an entire summer of being apart—it was going to take time, time they were both willing to give. Finally, T.J. reluctantly admitted that he should be getting home. It was twelve-thirty—half an hour past both their curfews. Spinelli agreed and walked with him back to the street where they both lived.

They stopped at Spinelli's front door. The front porch light was still on, a sure sign that Spinelli's parents were waiting up for her.

"They're probably going to be mad," Spinelli sighed. "Great."

"Sorry 'bout that," T.J. apologized.

Spinelli shrugged. "It's not the first time I've done it. Well worth whatever punishment they've got cooked up." Spinelli turned to T.J. before they reached the front steps. She pulled him to a stop and hugged him. "It's good seein' you, Teej. Thanks for sticking around and...everything else."

"Happy to be here, Spin. You've always got me," T.J. said, returning the hug, cheek against her soft hat.

The two teens stood there, relishing the happiness they were living before going their separate ways. Spinelli gave T.J. one last smile before jogging up to her front door and disappearing behind it.

T.J. stood there another minute until the front light was turned off then he headed back to his own house. He walked slowly. He was already late, no point in rushing to be late a few minutes less. His mom was probably already freaking out.

The night was cool, but not cold. A perfect summer night. T.J. hasn't felt this good since Spinelli told the gang she would be leaving over break. He took a deep breath and tried holding it in, keeping the memory forever. T.J. had plenty of cherished memories, but the ones dealing with his friends were too many to count and always his favorite. This was one memory he would pull out on a rainy day.

This night was definitely something he had to ponder in correlation with what he and his sister discovered earlier.

When he walked through the front door, T.J. was bombarded by his mother—as expected. His dad joined in after he heard the ruckus Mrs. Detweiler was making. T.J. stood there and took it with a smile on his face. That is what kept Mr. and Mrs. Detweiler from dishing out too much of a punishment. No TV for three days. Child's play. After T.J. was ordered up to bed, his parents looked at one another curiously.

"What do you suppose has him all high in the clouds? You don't think it's drugs do you?" Mr. Detweiler pondered to his wife, not too serious about the thought in dealing with their usually well-behaved son.

Mrs. Detweiler knew that look. She has seen it plenty of times in her prime. That was what made her throw out the worst-case-scenario thoughts. It was simpler than that. "No, he's simply enjoying the company of his young female neighbor."

"That's right. He hasn't seen her all summer," Mr. Detweiler remembered. "Well, glad he got his friend back."

Mrs. Detweiler sighed. A pleased smile graced her face. "Yes. Very glad...But that gives him no reason to be past curfew!"

When T.J. reached the end of the hall, the second door on the right opened up. There stood a slightly groggy Becky. Her cheeky grin broke through her sleepy haze.

"Sup, dork. I heard Mom and Dad get on your case. Must have been some night to keep you out so late."

T.J. didn't say anything. He stepped forward and gave his sister a quick peck on the cheek. Becky may have been surprised, but she was more pleased at the message it conveyed. T.J. had a great night and she played a large part in helping make that happen.

"G'night, sis."

"Goodnight, little brother."

T.J. went into his room and flopped down onto his bed. His mind had plenty to ponder, but his body wanted him to rest for the night. So—T.J. being T.J.—took action. He pulled out his phone and dialed up another one of his best friends.

"Teej?" came Vince's groggy voice from the other end. "What's going on? Somethin' wrong?"

"Vince, I've got a plan."


	7. Spinelli

**Whew! Done. Thank you all for following me in this story's journey. I really enjoyed writing it and hearing that you all enjoyed it. I appreciate all the reviews. I want to especially thank and dedicate this chapter to JACK5T3R who has been very supportive with each chapter's appearance. You are wonderful!**

 **Enjoy! And remember I don't own _Recess_ and please review!**

* * *

 **Chapter** **7 – Spinelli**

Ashley Spinelli had not expected to wake up without vision. Well, seeing all white was sort of like being without vision. The first explanation was that she slept in so late that the sunlight streaming through her window had momentarily blinded her. The second was that she actually went blind. The third and true explanation was when Spinelli made herself care enough this early in the morning about losing her vision to bring a hand up to her eyes. It was not the sunlight nor a sudden loss of vision but rather a note taped to her forehead. Spinelli's half-awake mind and body clumsily pulled the piece of paper from her face. The curiosity that note brought was what kept her mind from reliving her reunion with T.J. last night. She filled her lungs, totally prepared to chastise one of her brothers for sneaking into her room when she was asleep until she actually read the note.

 _Go to Kelso's. (Don't be mad. I was paid five bucks to put this on your face.)_

Spinelli frowned. So her suspicion was right—it _was_ one of her brothers, but not from her brothers. Spinelli reread the note before a grin split her face. After leaping out of bed, threw on jeans and a t-shirt and boots, and grabbed an apple for breakfast (a very late morning breakfast as it turns out), she ran outside. She resisted the urge to turn right and see if T.J. was home. No doubt this was a scheme of his which is why she willingly is going along with it. She trusts him.

Spinelli reached Kelso's just before Kelso himself was going to go on a lunch break.

"Hi there, Spinelli. How are you?" Kelso greeted her.

"Hey. Fine. You?" Spinelli said, slightly out of breath. She ran most of the way there.

"Fairly good myself. What can I get for you?"

Spinelli has not stopped looking around the moment she entered the store. None of her friends were there. "Have you seen Gretchen or T.J. or any of the others? I'm kinda lookin' for 'em."

"Nope, can't say that I have," Kelso said. A small smile gave him away, but Spinelli was too busy searching to notice it. "What's got you all worked up?"

"Well, I was...I thought they would be here. Guess not." Spinelli felt disappointment run through her like a cold shower. She sat down grumpily on one of the stools. "Can you get me a soda, please? I'll just wait a while."

"Sorry, can't do that," Kelso answered. This shocked Spinelli. Kelso and no soda? _What?_ "But I can get you something you might like better." Kelso pulled out an envelope and handed it to the young woman. Spinelli grinned and took it.

"Who knew you had a joking side?" Spinelli teased.

Kelso shrugged. "I like to bring it out every now and then. Go on and read it."

Spinelli tore the envelope and took out the letter inside. The handwriting was unmistakable.

 _Hey Spinelli!_

 _This is where you helped me figure out to be an engineer. My dad completely agrees with the idea. It's great! Thanks for that. You're pretty amazing. But I'd like to say that to you in person. Head down to the park. Vince is waiting for you there._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Gus Griswald_

Spinelli's smile turned into a smirk as she pocketed the note and headed out the door with a "Thanks, Kelso!" thrown over her shoulder.

Spinelli again ran the whole way as she went to the park. She realized how out of shape she was. Sitting around in Italy eating pasta was probably not the best to keep her in shape. Maybe this was part of the surprise. Keep Spinelli Healthy goal. If that's what this was, then she was going to punch T.J. rather than thank him.

When she reached the park, Spinelli looked around, but only saw kids and mothers she didn't recognize. She wandered over to the cement basketball court. No one was there. No Vince. No random basketball players. No one. Who would give her the note? Spinelli wandered around, trying to catch the eye of anyone passing by, but no one gave her a second glance. The frustrated girl sighed and kicked a rock. It skidded across the ground and actually managed to hit the far basketball hoop. However, when it hit the base of the metal pole, its sound was a _thud_ rather than a _tink_. Spinelli looked over and felt relief wash over her.

Spinelli picked up the note and read it.

 _Hey Spin._

 _Sorry for the no-show welcome, but I still wanna say thanks for attacking me the other day. Without you, I wouldn't have a date with the best girl I know. (Sorry, you're now second in my book.) You're the strength all of us needs to occasionally kick us in the butt. I appreciate that. I'll see you soon. Just head over to the mall, specifically—and I quote from Gretchen—"The store where we saw the horrible shoes that made us think of clowns." Sounds fun. And weird. Later!_

 _Vince LaSalle_

Spinelli rolled her eyes in good humor. She could practically hear the sarcasm Vince used. After pocketing this note too, Spinelli headed down to the mall. The little outlet mall in town wasn't much to look at, but it had what you needed. It was mainly for window shopping, anyway. That's how Gretchen and Spinelli saw the clown shoes. Those terrible orange and powder blue saddle shoes. Who would wear those except in costume?

The store was easily found back. Spinelli paused to catch her breath outside of the store, leaning against the window. The shoes were still there it turns out. Not only the shoes, but she saw something white underneath it. Spinelli's eyes gleamed as she went quick in and out of the store before the clerk could say two words to her. She always hated small talk. Suspicious small talk from the clerk was to be avoided at all costs. Spinelli walked down to a nearby bench, sat down, and read Gretchen's note.

 _Hello Spinelli._

 _Wonderful work in coming this far, though this is not too difficult when you think about it. T.J. was insistent that it could be easily followed so you could find us more quickly. Anyway, this is the place where you helped me find my confidence, both to go out with Vince and to be myself. For that, I thank you. I am eager for you to see your surprise. Please go to the recreational center._

 _Yours truly,_

 _Gretchen Grundler_

Spinelli couldn't help help but smile at remembering the happiness on Gretchen's face when she talked about Vince. The tough teen was sure glad her words and actions did good rather than harm. Though T.J. kind of convinced her the way she did things did not have to change. Her tough persona worked for her and her friends—her wonderful accepting friends she wouldn't trade for the world.

One jog to the recreational center later, Spinelli nearly collapsed on the front desk. She held up a finger to the person there to wait until she caught her breath. When she did, she opened her mouth to speak, but the bulky man behind the desk spoke first.

"I'm guessing you're Spinelli," he said flatly.

Spinelli nodded, words still escaping her.

The man handed her Mikey's note. Spinelli slid onto the ground, leaning back against the desk. Seriously— _too much pasta_. Oh well. She'll get back into shape eventually. Spinelli opened the fourth note.

 _Hello Dearest Spinelli._

 _I am sad at only speaking to you through note when I want to write ballads and sing songs to your wonderful kind-hearted actions. You truly are an ideal friend because you accept those around you for who they are and do not try to change them. For that and your courageous actions at my defense I could never be grateful enough. If you would please hurry down to T.J.'s home and ask for Becky, that would be wonderful and one step closer to greeting you in person._

 _Until then, dear friend,_

 _Mikey Blumberg_

Spinelli was happy with the note, but it was the fact that she had to run all the way back home that had her groan and curse pasta once more. Spinelli got up on her feet, took a few deep breaths, and headed out with the newest note tucked safely in her pocket.

Becky answered the door when the doorbell rang. She was not surprised to see Spinelli, but she was surprised to see Spinelli red-faced and out of breath.

"Did you run the whole way here?"

Spinelli nodded.

"The whole scavenger hunt?" Becky asked incredulously.

Spinelli nodded again.

Becky took pity on the tired teen. She stepped aside. "Here, come on in. I'm getting you a drink. Cool off. It's not like T.J. and his dweebs are going anywhere anytime soon."

"Thank you," Spinelli gasped. She went inside and sat herself down in the kitchen. Becky fetched her a glass of water which Spinelli chugged the moment she received it.

"Slow down there. Don't make yourself sick," Becky said.

"Sorry. Thanks," Spinelli said, regaining some of her breath.

"A little eager, are we?" Becky joked. She smiled when Spinelli wouldn't look her in the eye. "It's ok. I get it. You haven't seen them in a while—at least all together. Bet you missed them pretty bad. I know I miss my friends."

"How's the job search going?" Spinelli asked.

"Job decision now," Becky corrected. "You were gone all summer. You didn't hear that I have three job offers and don't know which to take."

"Cool. You're too good," Spinelli grinned.

Becky smirked. "You got that right. I'll figure it out eventually. I have until the end of the month. Right now, I'm focusing on the family—mainly T.J. and his ineptitude."

"Oh yeah? I have a hard time believing T.J. doesn't know how to handle a situation. What's got him all messed up now?" Spinelli asked.

Becky looked at Spinelli then turned away before Spinelli got the hint. It was not Becky's secret to tell, but she was sure going to enjoy watching T.J. try and deal with his newfound feelings.

"Nothing much. Probably just junior year coming up. I think he wants to run for student body president."

"He always was a leader," Spinelli said. Becky could almost detect the admiration in Spinelli's voice. The older woman smiled at the table top.

"Yeah. Anyway, here's your note. Have fun with the rest of your summer."

Spinelli took the note. "I will, especially now that I'm home."

Becky frowned. "You know, some would give their right arm to be in Italy for the summer."

"But I ain't one of 'em. Thanks again for the water!"

Spinelli shot out the door like a rocket with her newfound energy, leaving Becky behind to roll her eyes and smile.

 _Heya Spin,_

 _Sorry about the run-around, but it'll be worth it. My house is where you helped make my summer not be a total waste. We all missed having you around. I missed having you around. The gang without you is not complete. I'm glad you realize now how important you are to all of us—punches and all. I need you to head to Third Street School. I promise I'll be there waiting for you._

 _Yours Friend,_

 _T.J. Detweiler_

The words in the note had Spinelli's heart stutter and her legs almost take flight with how fast she was running. When she was a block away from her old school, she slowed down to a walk. She didn't want to be all sweaty when she reached her friends.

Finally, Spinelli spotted Third Street. The sight of it still makes her smile with fond memories. No one was at the front of the school. Spinelli headed over to the playground in the back. There she found them. Through the fence she saw T.J., Gus, Gretchen, Vince, and Mikey all there next to the newer version of Old Rusty.

"There she is!" she heard Gus say to the others.

Spinelli waved before climbing over the fence. Once she was on the other side, she sprinted towards the group. Her friends. T.J. was the first to greet her and who got the blunt end of her gratitude. The force of the running hug he got nearly toppled him to the ground. Thankfully, Mikey was behind him keeping them up.

"Hey guys!" Spinelli said joyously. When she pulled away from T.J., she proceeded to hug every other member of the gang. It was the first time she has seen them all together. It felt as if all the pieces of a puzzle finally fit together perfectly. It made her feel satisfied and oh-so happy. After finishing with her greetings, Spinelli looked around and noticed all the food setting on a table underneath a banner hanging from the jungle gym. It read _Welcome Back Spinelli_. "What's going on? What's this? And why make me run everywhere to get here?"

"It was all T.J.'s idea," Gus informed her.

"Yeah, he wanted to do something extra special to make sure the gang is together again and as strong as ever—especially since we got our muscle back," Vince joked. Spinelli smirked.

"You guys didn't have to do all this," Spinelli said. "I just wanted to see you guys before the summer was over."

"And you are," Mikey said, "in a most pleasant way."

"We've got the whole day planned," T.J. informed her. "Lunch here. Sodas at Kelso's. Hanging out by the pond. Not to mention whatever else you want."

Gretchen placed a hand on Spinelli's shoulder. "This is a day to celebrate you, Spinelli."

Spinelli had to look at the ground. She shoved her hands in her pockets and coughed lightly, trying to shove away the emotion that dared show themselves. Instead of crying, she joked, "I thought that's what my birthday was for."

Everyone had a good laugh at that. Mikey announced the food should be eaten before the flies got to it instead. Each member filled a plate and picked a spot on the jungle gym to eat. They talked and laughed and reminisced until the food was gone and nearly all the cake was eaten.

After their lunch of cake, junk food, and sandwiches, the four play a while on the playground before going down to Kelso's and grabbing some sodas to take to the pond. Spinelli joked that the pond was the only place they didn't make her go on a wild goose chase. Thankfully the spitfire teen held no resentment for forcing her to get back into shape (though all that junk food might have set her back a day again).

The group stayed at the pond until the sun began to set. It was when they were all sitting in a row on a hill, watching the sunset that Spinelli suddenly sat and shrieked, "I was supposed to get my new cell phone today!"

This set the group off. They laugh until their sides hurt and tears rolled down their cheeks. Spinelli laughed too, though she was still concerned on how she was going to keep in contact with them. That's when T.J. offered to stick close and have her use him and his phone as a medium for contact until she got her new phone. Spinelli accepted the offer, ignorant of the smirks her other friends exchanged behind her back.

The group watched the stars for a while before finally admitting that they should be getting back home. They take the long way home, stopping by each house and dropping off that group member until it was just Spinelli and T.J. Spinelli had a vague sense of deja vu.

"Thanks T.J. Really," Spinelli said when they reached her walkway. "You didn't have to do this. You had already reassured me enough yesterday. I'm not turning into one of those insecure Ashley's."

"I know," T.J. assured her. "But I wanted to. We all missed you, Spinelli. I missed you."

"I missed you too," Spinelli said. She looked to the ground when she spoke her next words. "And...you know, thanks for always being there for me and stuff. I—you mean a lot to me."

T.J. felt his heart swell. Spinelli's cheeks grew pink when she saw his beaming smile at her.

"You mean a lot to me too, Spin," T.J. said earnestly. "I always—"

T.J. never got to finish. Spinelli had stepped forward and hugged him once more, tightly, as if he would disappear on her. T.J. quickly returned the hug, trying to assure her nonverbally of her importance in his life. They stayed like that for a moment before Spinelli pulled away and kissed T.J. on the cheek.

"G'night Teej," Spinelli said, cheeks flaming and heart pounding, before turning and running up her steps and into her house.

T.J. again stood there a moment, fully taking in the night and trying to memorize the tingling sensation on his cheek. Then he headed home, almost skipping as he went along.

"Good night?" Becky asked. She was seated in the entryway, reading a magazine when T.J. entered the house.

"You could say that," T.J. said cryptically.

"Thought so," Becky said. "Mom and Dad are out for the night. They told me to inform them if you came home late. It is almost an hour past your curfew, but I think I am too tired to read a clock properly. You came home five minutes before your curfew instead of sixty minutes after. Does that sound about right?"

T.J. moved to his sister and hugged her. "Yep. That sounds truthful to me. Thanks sis."

"Anytime bro. And let me know how things go as the school year progresses. If it gets you in this good of a mood, I don't think you'll ever be annoying again."

T.J. grinned. "You got it. I have a feeling this school year is going to be a very interesting one."

Becky and T.J. shared a secretive look before T.J. headed up for bed and Becky went back to her magazine.


End file.
